


It Takes An Ocean Not To Break

by WhyMrSpook



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Caring Bones, Crew as Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, James T. Kirk's Immune System, Kirk's Recovery, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Parent Pike, Pike Lives, Pike in a wheelchair, Poor Bones, Poor Kirk, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bones, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek), Tarsus IV, blagging my way through medicine stuff, mention of past eating disorder, nyota is a good friend, spock has his own issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: “You know I love you, Jim, don’t you? You know I’d do anything for you?”“Yeah Bones.” Jim met his gaze and smiled, weakly. Leonard didn’t trust it, or the bland statement that followed. “I love you too.”~~~Leonard McCoy is tired and scared. Jim is alive, just about, but frail and perhaps more scared than Leonard. He has a long recovery ahead of him, but Pike and the others are there to help him through. If there's one thing Leonard is certain of, it's that James T. Kirk survives - no matter what.





	1. Chapter 1

Life without Jim Kirk was unfathomable, and Leonard hated him for that. How dare he. That arrogant, smarmy little git had just worked himself into Leonard's life. One seat on a shuttle. A single journey, and one goddamn _awful_ nickname, and Leonard had never been able to shake him off since. A few shared classes and study sessions had devolved into going out drinking, Jim crashing on his couch and then in his bed, and then becoming his Doctor both on and off duty because Jim, of course, loathed any sort of treatment from people he didn’t trust. But he had to go and trust Leonard, and Leonard gave all of himself to that damnable kid because neither of them really had anyone else.

Look where it had left them. Jim, fucking dead, and Leonard broken. No. It was unacceptable. Jim Kirk had no fucking right to just waltz into his life - worm his way into every damn pore of Leonard’s existence - and then leave. He wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t, even. He’d risked everything to bring Jim back- to hear the steady thrumming heart beat as closely as if Jim were still lying beneath him, with Leonard’s ear pressed to his chest. Only then did he stop being angry with Jim. When he was completely certain he was alive and kicking. It would have been much easier to be mad at him if he’d not woken up again. More so than it was to look into those bright blue eyes, hurting and scared but _alive,_ and feel anything but utter, all-consuming relief that he’d made it.

“If you ever do that to me again, Kid…” Leonard murmured, hours later, when Spock had been and gone and Jim had slept again for too long for Leonard not to sit beside his bed and worry.

“I won’. ‘m sorry, Bones.”

Leonard bowed his head, pressed a kiss to Jim’s hand. It was too limp, still, and heavy in his own. But his fingers curled slowly, determinedly, around Leonard’s. His breath fell out of pace slightly from the effort and concentration it took- but Leonard didn’t make any effort to stop him. He appreciated the gesture, enough to kiss those pretty hands again.

“You better be.” Leonard laughed, wetly, and tried not to show Jim anything was wrong at all. His boyfriend was looking at him hazily, his eye-lids drooping and his vision not really focusing anymore. He had to be so tired, and so very strong to hold on to consciousness just to see Leonard. Just to apologise. God, fucking- _dammit_! The kid was too good, too kind and brave for Leonard- but he couldn’t ever give him up. Jim was enigmatic and wild and unapologetically brave, and Leonard would spend the rest of his years holding onto him for dear life.

“Stay?”

With other doctors, in other circumstances, Jim switched off. His face went blank, his tone flattened - if he even bothered to talk - and his body tensed until they sedated him to such an extent that he physically couldn’t hold himself so tightly any longer. It was only for Leonard that he had ever been so pliant, cooperative and vulnerable. With others, his distrust of doctors was dangerous. For Leonard, he’d issued a trust. It was fragile and precious- something Leonard had revered, even before he’d realised how screwed he was for the annoying kid. How entangled their lives had become, without need or hope for resolution.

“Just try and stop me.” Leonard replied, barely managing a whisper. He wasn’t even sure if Jim was even conscious enough to hear his reply anyway, so it didn’t matter much. He was just content to do as asked, to stay and hold Jim’s hand and wait for the time he’d wake up and not gasp for breath like he was dying all over again. Dammit, hadn’t they suffered enough already? Jim- especially. He’d been so determined, so stubborn in the face of unrelenting agony. In return, he’d been forced to die. To give his life, finally, in return for something _good_ and pure. Innocent lives. God only knows, Jim had already given everything else.

 

 

 

 

“Where is he-? McCoy!” His office doors slid open abruptly, and Leonard almost felt like crying again at the sight of Christopher Pike. He’d been in London, of all places. Life couldn’t go on hold because James Kirk was in a post-death coma, after all. But the moment Jim had woken, the Admiral had gotten on the first shuttle home. Despite the hours long journey, Pike looked just about as damn panicked as he ever had done when it came to Jim, and with good cause. In a way, his presence was comforting to Leonard. It made the whole thing feel like just another one of Jim’s incidents at the Academy. Like the time he bust up a shuttle. Or when he went missing on a survival course and turned up three days later with a broken arm. Twice he’d had panic attacks so bad he’d ended up at Medical. Multiple allergic reactions, over the years. All these things had seen Pike and Leonard at his bedside, berating him and comforting him whenever necessary. So this… this was nothing new, not at all.

“Chris, he’s this way.” Leonard said, standing quickly and waiting for Chris to manoeuvre his wheelchair. “He’s sleeping now, but he woke earlier. He’s… he’s not going to bounce right back up from this one.”

The Admiral looked at him, eyes shining with heartbreak for a moment before a grim determination set his jaw instead. “When I found that boy, he was one shot away from getting himself killed. He can do this.” Pike said, resolutely.

They entered Jim’s suite, and Pike’s chair stopped suddenly as he took in the sight before him. James T. Kirk, small and fragile. Bruised from too many needles and wires, despite all the regen work he could take in his frail condition. Jim looked as young as he was, if not younger, beneath his bedsheets. Leonard had shared a bed with him for years now, and the man tossed and turned and tangled like nobody’s business usually. Typically. But this wasn’t typical. This was a man whose every energy source was depleted. His muscles were too weak to hold himself up, and wouldn’t really be stronger for some time. Leonard dragged his eyes away, to the older man beside him in his wheelchair, and contemplated that future for Jim. His spine had undergone light damage in his last attempts to save the ship, but that was really the least of his worries. Leonard and Jim both had their work cut out for them in the coming months.

“A year.” Pike said, then, edging forwards towards the bed and resting his elbow on the mattress. “That’s how long the Enterprise is grounded. He’ll recover, won’t he?” He looked as if he was itching to take Jim’s hand, and Leonard sympathised. They hadn’t exactly left things off in a good place the last time they’d been there, and Leonard had watched Jim struggle with that the entire Khan debacle. It was as if Jim hadn’t really been there at all, knowing Pike had been back on earth fighting for his life and potentially hating Jim.

“Yes, Sir.” Leonard replied, because of that much he _had_ to believe. All initial examinations suggested Jim’s systems were slowly becoming used to life again- none had suspiciously shut down at any point, at least. But the recovery process- mentally, beyond all the physical stuff, it was daunting. “I’m not… I couldn’t just give up, Sir. I had to do _something_.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to explain himself to Pike – just about the only person besides Spock he expected to understand why he couldn’t just let Jim Kirk die – but he tried anyway. Perhaps he just needed validating – someone to tell him that the risk he’d taken, the hell he was inflicting on Jim, was justified because they couldn’t survive without him.

“I know. I know, son. You did the right thing.” Pike extended his hand, and Leonard attempted to shake it. It felt more like a clasp than anything; his own hand was weak and unsteady, a far cry from a good doctor’s hand. “Listen, I’m here now. And I know for a fact Boyce has been on shift for hours waiting to take over from you. Go and sleep.”

“Not… he’s only been back a day. I don’t want to – he might need me.” Pike looked at him with something akin to pity, but not quite. It was a look he normally attributed to Spock, and he wondered if their Vulcan friend had picked up that particular mannerism from his first Captain. “I’ll crash in my office for a few hours, let Boyce keep an eye on Jim for a while.”

“Good man. Jim’s going to need you a lot more in the coming months. You might as well sleep now, while he’s too out of it to remember.”

Leonard laughed abruptly, the sound foreign but not entirely flat. Though his face felt odd to contort in laughter after the utter horrific nightmare of the last few weeks, and days in particular. Still, there was hope. And god, it felt good to have Chris there finally. Chris understood what Jim did to people who loved him.

“Yeah. Thanks Chris.” He moved to the doors, eyes lingering briefly on Jim and the pallidity of his skin. It would be a good while before he made it out of the hospital, let alone spent any time in the sun with his increased sensitivity. It was another tragedy. It was hard to think of Jim without also thinking of their camping trips- hiking in the summer off between their first and second year. Jim, climbing and pitching tents and walking through fields of flowers and skinny dipping in crystal pools in the middle of nowhere. The sun made Jim Kirk come to life, more so than just breathing. It was a travesty to imagine him stuck in hospital for a year.

The doors opened behind him, and Doctor Boyce entered looking far better equipped to cope with the next shift of looking after Jim than Leonard probably was. Besides, he’d served as Pike’s CMO for years- and if Pike trusted him, then Leonard could.

“Doctor McCoy, you’re testing my resolve never to knock out another medical professional without permission.” Boyce said, mostly jovially.

“I’ve already been appropriately scolded, Phil.” Leonard sighed, slipping off his tricorder in an act of surrender and dropping it onto one of the visitors chairs. “I’m going to catch some sleep. But I need you to take those blood samples right on the hour for comparison. He needs the regen on his hips again, but I think that’s probably all he can take for today. If he wakes, try and encourage him to list some facts about himself. And his shots- he’s allergic to so much and he’s started to develop a tolerance to some painkillers, so I need you to be careful-“

“Leonard, I’ve spent the last two days pouring over every facet of Kirk’s medical history.” And god, when Jim found out he’d probably kick them for allowing another Doctor to see the shit-storm of his life thus far. “I know what to do. Besides, you’ll be right down the corridor. Just, get some shut eye.”

Leonard’s lips tightened, because it was that or admit that the last time he’d been parted from Jim- even only by a few damn floors in a tin can – the bastard had gone and died. He nodded stiffly, trying to prove to himself that he, at least, recognised he was being irrational. He couldn’t physically be with Jim every second for the rest of his life. Even if he managed that, it wouldn’t actually stop Jim dying again. Death was inescapable. It was just... Jim seemed to attract more trouble than the rest of the planet put together.

“Yes, Sir.” He nodded at Pike respectfully, because it was about the only thing he felt comfortable doing in front of Boyce. Internally, he was hugging the man’s ankles for getting to them so quickly. Of course, Chris would do anything for Jim, but it didn’t make Leonard any less grateful. Spock had too many commitments to the Enterprise and the investigation into Marcus and Khan and, though he’d turned up every night thus far to visit, he was looking terrible for it. Chris’ arrival was going to make everything a hundred times more comfortable for Leonard.

Turning on his heel to leave the Suite, Leonard contemplated whether the floor or his chair would be more comfortable for crashing on. In the end, he went for the floor. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep at his desk too many times before, and it just wasn’t worth it on his back and neck. Instead, he rolled his discarded old uniform from the day before into a ball and used it as a pillow. Sleep took him almost instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was painful. At first, his world was a particular horrific shooting pain down his left shin, and slowly the reality dawned on him that every single pore – every cell of his body – ached. Then, he remembered why, and he remembered Spock’s face through the glass, and he remembered his lungs begging for air. He gasped in a ragged breath, his back arching away from the hospital bed- hospital! He was in hospital – and he was alive!

“B’ns.” He was trying so hard to speak, to get the word out, but the world felt like a struggle; foggy and bright and too much to cope with. He wanted to be unconscious again, and he needed his Doctor for that particular reality. “Bones.” He repeated, slowly, his throat constricted and raw the way it hadn’t been in over a decade now. He hated it- both wanted to throw up and desperately not to. A thousand thoughts assaulted his tired mind, actually, but his lips still aimed for Bones. He was half convinced he’d trained them into doing that whenever he felt pain now.

But Bones wasn’t there. An older man moved into his vision- grey haired and lanky- definitely not Bones unless, _god,_ how long had he been asleep? If this was some Khan shit- hands pinned him down against the bed, and the man stood before him frowned at him quizzically.

“I’m Doctor Philip Boyce, Jim. What’s wrong? Your bones?”

Jim tried to shake his head, but the motion felt slow and hazy and god- who was this Doctor? Because he wasn’t Bones, and Bones had promised long ago that he’d never leave Jim, never abandon him to some ruthless Doctor who only wanted him to stop crying.

“Move, Phil.” Another voice cut through the sound of his own laboured breaths, and this one was instantly recognisable. Jim thought he managed something that vaguely resembled a sob, then, even if all he felt was air heaving through his raw throat. The new Doctor released his shoulders and stepped away, and Pike moved into his vision. The last time Jim had seen Christopher Pike, his mentor had been fighting for his life in a coma after Khan’s attack and now Khan- Khan- -

“Breathe, Jim!” Pike instructed him firmly, in a way that definitely resembled most of their encounters since the day they’d met. Pike, handing his ass to him on a plate in a tone not even James T. Kirk wanted to argue with. So he took a deep breath, hand scrambling for Pike’s- and he wasn’t even sure if it was to prove Pike was real, or just for his own comfort. He was pathetic. But Spock wasn’t there to look all disapproving, he thought, so he could just repress this embarrassment another time.

“Bones?” He asked again, when his heart had stopped thrumming so loudly in his ears.

“He’s sleeping, son. Finally.” Pike said calmly and steadily, so that Jim didn’t have to concentrate so hard to get the gist of his words. The realisation that Bones had suffered so much to keep him alive felt something like a kick to an already bleeding wound, but too tired to dwell on it. Instead, he focused all his energy onto squeezing Chris’ hand in response. Let Bones sleep. God knows, Jim could never ask anything of the man for however long this miracle recovery lasted. He was beyond verbal replies now, sleep tugging at the corners of his vision again. Pike understood, pulling his blankets up to his shoulders again.

“You’re in good hands. I’m not going anywhere till he gets back, okay? You’re not going to be alone, Jim.”

Jim remembered the last time he’d been alone. Before Pike had forced himself into Jim’s life, and brought with him Starfleet and Bones and then the Enterprise and Spock. He trusted implicitly that Pike was telling the truth. They wouldn’t leave him now. They wouldn’t dare bring him back from the dead, just to desert him. They’d stay. He wouldn’t be alone again. He tapped his finger against Pike’s hand.

“Rest, Son. I’m right here. Me and Phil, we’ll look after you.”

Jim assumed that ‘Phil’ was the Doctor who had introduced himself, and then disappeared out of his line of sight. He was okay with that. Phil wasn’t ‘Doctor something’ and that was easier to deal with. Not that Jim was in any state to put up a fight. Instead, he focused on the older hand around his and gave into the darkness that threatened him. Not death, not an endless peaceful sleep, but another leap into his next few minutes of consciousness.

 

 

 

 

“I have been expressly forbidden from filling you in on the details of the investigation as of yet.” Spock said, and Leonard swore there was even more dryness in that tone than the git normally had.

“Damn right.” Leonard replied, before he could help himself, shooting both the men in the room a vicious look of warning. There were to be zero arguments regarding the rate at which he wanted Jim to progress. Boyce was the only damn person he’d pay any attention to regarding Jim’s recovery, and if the others didn’t agree they could go sit on a broken bottle for all Leonard cared.

“However,” Spock continued, and Leonard was certain he was being mocked for his emotionalism then. He’d never really gotten Spock’s bland humour before, but Jim certainly made the effort to grin lazily. It wasn’t a particularly comforting smile, in that it didn’t quite reach his eyes, but that could have been for any number of reasons. Predominantly, tiredness. The whole host of psychological issues that came with coming back to life, accidentally leading a bunch of men, women and various other to their deaths… well, that would probably hinder any smile for a long while too. But they would deal with that as and when it came up. Spock carried on, glancing at Leonard smugly. “I am pleased to report that Mister Scott has made interesting plans for the Enterprise. With Doctor McCoy’s permission, I will bring some plans upon my next visit. I believe you will find them appropriately intellectually stimulating.”

The smile had slipped off Jim’s face somewhere around the word ‘Enterprise’ and, though he nodded fervently at the idea, Leonard didn’t trust for a moment that he was as enthusiastic as he would have Spock believe.

“We’ll see, Spock.” Leonard intervened. It didn’t take nearly as much effort to soften his voice as he’d expected it to- what with Spock in the room. But Jim’s blue eyes had become slightly glassy, and he brought a hand, wires and all, up to his face as if to stifle a yawn. “Listen, we better call it a night.”

“I understand, Doctor.” Whether Spock was referring to only the most basic fundamental truth of Leonard’s words, or the sudden switching off from Jim, it was unclear. Spock stood, bid them goodnight and departed without further ado. It was weird, and Leonard wasn’t ashamed to admit it, how he couldn’t remember Jim and Spock becoming friends. Jim had a natural charm - made friends with most of the Academy throughout his time there – but Spock had taken time and effort. Bones remembered that bit. Remembered the bitching and whining, and arguments. Then, at some point, he’d just become Spock. Just, there, in their lives. Jim’s command partner and someone else to berate him for taking too many risks when Bones couldn’t be there.

Loathe though he was to admit it, Leonard was glad Spock was there so often to see Jim. Someone needed to remind him how much he loved space, because he didn’t think _he_ had it in him. Space was danger and death and sure, Leonard would follow Jim wherever he chose to go, but he couldn’t face suggesting it himself.

“You need anything, Jim?”

He remained withdrawn even despite Spock’s departure, and Leonard moved closer to his bed, momentarily eyeing the readings in the screen above his head. Everything was progressing as they’d predicted thus far, and Jim was getting a little stronger every day. When he’d worked his way up to sitting up for more than an hour, Leonard wanted him to try standing right away. Hell, even just sitting in a chair instead of the bed. They could move him to the window then, and the view might convince him that the world was still turning. It hadn’t ended because Marcus had screwed them out of too many lives- sons, daughters, husbands, wives. It was cruel, but Jim had to keep going.

“No. I just… don’t wanna talk about the ship.” Jim admitted, shrugging a little. There were severe bags beneath his eyes, and Leonard resolved to check the readings from Boyce’s shift the night before to make sure Jim had actually slept. If he hadn’t- well, Leonard wouldn’t leave the hospital again. He’d damn well set up a camp bed beside his boyfriend’s and stand guard over him until he could trust him to look after himself.

“That’s okay.” Leonard said. “No arguments from me.” He took Jim’s hand and, for the first time since he’d woken, Jim didn’t make any sort of effort to squeeze it. It was a tiny, little, almost dismissible little detail. Leonard was more inclined, though, to put it down to Jim’s increased abilities to understand and process information, an increased awareness of his surroundings and with it the expected decline in his mental health. Jim had held off for longer than they’d expected. Or, at least, he’d hidden it from them well enough. Leonard wouldn’t presume to know what had been going on in Jim’s head the first few times he’d woken up.

“I know I’ll have to… but not yet. Not- not-”

“Hey, I know, Kid. It’s okay. No-one’s gonna make you do anything.” Leonard moved closer, worked his hand into Jim’s hair and tried to calm what looked like the beginnings of a panic threatening to tear Jim at the seams. He didn’t have the energy for a mental breakdown just yet- it would set him back three days, at least. “You just get better, okay. Everything else can wait, Jimmy.” His words did nothing but trigger the flood of tears that seemed to have been impending since Spock mentioned the Enterprise. “Aw shit, darling, I’m sorry.” But words weren’t enough and, Jesus, how could he hope to fix this? He was a doctor, not a miracle worker. He’d brought Jim back from the dead, and god he hadn’t even given it a damn thought. How the fuck could he? He’d been selfish and not cared. Jim survived, that was what Jim did. Crappy childhood, Tarsus, Nero, Khan. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Leonard could have just wasted the opportunity to make him survive a little longer. No matter the costs.

“Bones… so many people are dead. My crew. My ship. It was my job.” He gasped in a breath, and Leonard could only cradle his head and hold himself together. “It was my job to protect them.”

“You saved so many, Kid. You saved so many more than you lost.” Leonard affirmed. “You’ll see. I know it seems a lot now, darling, but you’ll get there. Just trust me, okay? Like you always did. You and me, Kid.”

Jim didn’t reply, other than to twist his head away from Leonard’s loose grasp and present his bare neck, silently asking for a hypo to stop his ragged sobs and crying. He’d not needed any of them so far since waking; not on Leonard’s watch anyway- and Boyce hadn’t reported any panic or signs of emotional trauma yet. But Leonard still had them to hand, because this was Jim Kirk and he was not as strong as anyone ever first believed.

Leonard relented almost instantly, taking the hypospray from his belt and pressing a kiss to his hairline in time with the shot to his neck. A beat passed, and then Jim relaxed entirely against him. The tension in the room remained, even despite Jim’s sudden unconsciousness, and Leonard felt just as broken as he had done when he’d first seen Jim’s body.

 _He’s not going to bounce right back up from this one_ , he’d told Pike. Christ, only a week had passed, but he felt like that man had been hopelessly naïve.


	3. Chapter 3

Jim was getting rather tired of waking up in pain. It felt like weeks had passed, but Bones insisted it had only been days. Still, it made a nice change to wake up in considerably less pain than he remembered being in so far. His mind felt clearer too; well rested and less hazy. The hospital room wasn’t as bright and white and harsh as it had been, and to open his eyes didn’t hurt quite so much. Overall, as he assessed his own body, he decided things could be a lot worse. He just wished he could hold onto that brief moment between sleep and consciousness, when he couldn’t remember where he was or why he was there. Before he had to open his eyes and see quite how scared Leonard looked at every waking moment. His boyfriend had been stupidly strong all the time Jim had known him, no matter his own personal shit. It was how Bones coped. Rant, rave, but always get up the next day to go to work. It worked for Leonard, but this was in a whole other league. Jim hadn’t even seen him _rant_ , let alone cry. What’s more, he hadn’t spoken to Jim about what had happened between Jim dying and waking up. Spock had told him bits and pieces, but he had a feeling Bones had something on the others to keep their mouths shut.

Jim wasn’t weak. He was a wreck, sure, but he was still the Captain. He deserved to know more than just the news reels Boyce didn’t know he’d managed to hack into from his bed screen.

“Earth to Kirk, are you receiving?”

Jim’s head turned sharply on his pillow, and he focused on the man wheeling into his room. “Chris.” He was, perhaps, a touch more surprised than his tired tone indicated. “I thought I’d hallucinated you.”

“Yeah well, you’ve been pretty out of it most of the time I’ve been here.” Pike replied grimly, nodding his head as if that was completely expected. “I’ve been at headquarters for the last two days anyway, negotiating.” On what, Pike didn’t expand, but approached Jim slowly. Jim raised his bed, frustrated at the slowness of it, and how he still had to fight back dizziness of the room turning back to the right angle.

“McCoy said you’re doing better, son.”

“Yes, Sir.” He made no effort to disguise the mirth in his tone. “Yesterday I sat up for a whole hour, and then threw up some soup.” Which was demeaning enough, really, without his fucking boyfriend having to strip him and clean him and act like it was _normal_. Maybe Leonard had done it enough in his time- looked after a little kid and patients. But that wasn’t Jim. All their time together, he’d never once stayed put in a hospital bed long enough to do himself _more_ damage. It was antithetical to what hospital was supposed to be.

“An hour? Not bad, Son. Let’s aim for an hour and ten today. If you’re good, I’ll fetch you some custard to throw up instead.”

Jim almost laughed. No, really, the delivery was _excellent_. Jim was reminded of the man who’d first dunked him head first into the reality of Starfleet. Pike hadn’t changed, hadn’t gone away at all despite Nero and everything that had happened. Jim thought, maybe, _he_ was the one who’d changed. Spock and Bones would say he’d grown up a bit, but it went deeper than that. Jim had nearly followed Marcus blindly, just for revenge. His mistake had killed people. He never would have done that as a kid, he thought.

“The last time I saw you, you’d just demoted me and then nearly died. How are you here?”

Pike reclined slightly in his chair, folding his arms. “The last time I saw you, I made you my First Officer.” He corrected, teasing lightly. “Then I got myself injured and spent most of the time you were playing cat and mouse in space recovering. I’m sick of hospitals at this point, Son, so you better hurry up and get yourself discharged.”

“Not with Bones around.” Jim muttered. “Even if I escape this hell hole, I’m still living with my Doctor.” At that moment, he resented Bones’ profession more than he ever had done in the Academy. “You know, I woke up yesterday and he was leaning over me. I thought he was going to kiss me or try and wake me up all sweet. You know what he was doing?”

Pike quirked a brow to indicate his curiosity.

“Taking a ‘quick scan of my neural functions’.” Jim hadn’t been impressed and he’d tried to knee Bones lightly in the stomach, just to kick some sense into him. His plan had backfired, though, because he’d just fucked up his hip in the attempt and had to spend the next hour in pain, and laying still under an osteo-regenerator. “I swear, Chris, he’s turned into Spock.” He gasped sharply. “And don’t even get me started on Spock. He’s turned into mister optimism. It’s genuinely more annoying than him being on my case all the time.”

The suite was quiet for a moment, and Jim felt the intensity of Pike’s stare. As judgemental as Spock, as knowing as Bones, and _fuck,_ Jim needed that look as much as he ever had done. Damn his childhood issues, and damn him now for being so desperate for Pike’s validation.

“Spock watched you die, Jim. I’m not saying this whole situation isn’t a hundred times worse for you, but try and see it from his point of view. You’re his best friend, and he watched you die. Nearly lost his mind trying to avenge you. We’ve spoke about it a little, but you know Spock.” Pike shrugged slightly, fingers drumming on the arms of his chair. “He’s working through it. I know he wants to go back to New Vulcan and see a healer, but he won’t leave until he’s sure you’ve made adequate progress – not that he’ll tell me his standards for your recovery.”

“He shouldn’t worry about me. Bones can do that enough for all of us.”

“Don’t I know it. I thought he was going to cry when I first got here.” Pike didn’t look particularly concerned, nor amused, and Jim stared at him trying to decipher the information the man wanted him to take from that little titbit of information. “Leonard’s a Doctor. It’s his life, and you are too. He’s bound to obsess a little bit until you’re up and about.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right.”

What Jim didn’t know, though, was just how long it would take for him to recover. Maybe because no-one had told him, which was probably also down to Leonard. Had he even asked? Spock would have told him, he was sure. Was he? God, he was only just starting to get any decent grasp on time, and already he was sick of it. He sure as hell couldn’t cope with Bones acting like this all the time. He wanted to stop feeling tragically sick. God, he wanted to _run._ He wanted Bones to not look at him like he was breakable, kiss him somewhere other than his hair or hand. He wanted his boyfriend back, not his CMO. The problem was, Jim wasn’t entirely sure if that could ever happen.

 

 

 

 

“Captain, Nyota enquired after your wellbeing yesterday. A sentiment repeated by Mister Scott, Chekov and Sulu.” Spock informed him, the next morning. “Do you have any approximation of when you might be able to receive visitors.” He asked, then, with zero subtlety as he looked over at Leonard – clearly accusing _him_ of being the cause for Jim’s continued isolation. Leonard conceded that yes, maybe, he’d been wrong to prohibit news or PADDs somehow getting to Jim before he’d started progressing physically. But on this occasion, it was Jim who was building walls to keep the rest of the world out.

Nyota had been the first to ask to visit, and Jim had said he was too tired that day. The following day he’d received messages from Chekov and Sulu, both asking to come and see him too. Jim had said he was just too weak still. When Scotty had asked to come, only earlier that morning, Jim had actually thrown up over the side of his bed.

“Maybe next week, Spock, I’m not sure.” If ever Jim had sounded noncommittal before in his life, he’d exceeded it now. He shrugged, indifferently, and moved one of his chess pieces.

“Captain, I believe you will benefit from speaking to the crew. Commander Scott has been most… emotional regarding the matter.” Jim looked vaguely nauseous again, and Bones stepped back from the bed monitor just in case. He loved Jim with all his heart, but he didn’t have any clean socks or shoes left at the hospital and he really didn’t want to have to go home yet. “What’s more, that was an illegal move.” Spock added, gesturing to the chess board between them.

There was silence for a moment and then Jim reached out and smacked the board off the table. Spock visibly flinched at the clatter; the chess pieces flying and hitting the floor loudly. The sudden anger of Jim’s action was louder, almost, than the clatter.

“Captain-“

“Spock,” Leonard interrupted. Or, rather, intervened. He was all too aware of how Jim would react if tested now. He’d seen Jim at his worst before now. Seen him heartbroken and angry, full of rage. He _knew_ , and Spock tried his hardest but he struggled with his own emotions – let alone the rage of a hurting human. “Could you go wait in my office. Please.”

Spock looked like he wanted to say no- like a child refusing to go to bed when told by his parents. Fortunately, acting the grown Vulcan that he was, Spock nodded stiffly and swiftly departed without looking back. Thank god for small mercy’s, at least. That being said, Jim didn’t actually look like much of a threat now. The anger had drained from his features, and he’d leaned back into his pillows again, exhausted and defeated.

Back at the academy, at the start, an angry Jim Kirk had meant trouble. Bar fights and broken fists and ending up in Pike’s office, Bones’ ward or their dorm- bloody and drunk. Now, his anger had dissipated so quickly he was almost unrecognisable. The Jim Kirk that Leonard knew _survived._ And to survive, Jim had fought.

“Jim.”

The man in the bed refused to meet his gaze, so Leonard moved closer, dodging the discarded chess pieces like a minefield beneath him.

“It’s okay to be angry, Jim. You can shout at me. Or if you really want, I’ll drag Spock back in here and you can shout at him. You know I will, if that’s what you need.” Jim didn’t shift, staring at the wall and rubbing his fingers together in a steady rhythm. “Don’t shut down, Jimmy, please. You’ve got to talk to me. We’re partners, right? You know I’ll defend you against anything.” Even death, apparently. Jim must have thought the same, because his jaw twitched suddenly. “But you have to give a little too. Please. Talk to me or scream at me, but don’t shut me out.”

Finally, Jim nodded and looked up. “I’m not ready to see anyone else. Not yet. I know I have to- but preferably when I can walk. Walk and not throw up.” He laughed darkly, and Leonard was suddenly struck by the thought that it might be months before he trusted one of Jim’s smiles again.

“Okay.” Leonard said, anyway, because he wasn’t in a position to force visitors on Jim in any case. Besides, it wasn’t an unreasonable request. If he _did_ take the Enterprise again, he probably didn’t want his crew seeing him as particularly mortal. “We can wait, it’s not a problem. Just tell me why.”

“Bones-“

“Why, Jim?” He repeated, taking Spock’s vacated seat beside his bed and meeting his boyfriend’s gaze with just as much stubborn defiance. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted Jim to talk. Crying was good and healthy, and probably going to happen a lot in the foreseeable future, but it wasn’t words. It couldn’t really tell Leonard anything beyond the fact that Jim was scared, angry and hurt – all of which he could have worked out for himself.

“Because I don’t want them to see me like this, Bones.” Jim said, finally, quietly. “Dying was clean. It was calculated. But this- this is awful, Bones. It fucking sucks. I never know from one hour to the next how I’m going to feel. If my whole body is going to hurt. If I’ll be able to keep my crappy food down.”

“They’ll understand, Jim. They owe you their lives. But they can wait, till you’re stronger.”

Jim nodded his thanks, and Leonard felt like he’d been dismissed somehow. It was a weird sort of feeling. Jim had dismissed him professionally a bunch, especially from the bridge, and Leonard had always gotten his revenge by keeping him trapped in medbay. On this occasion, he had a confused Spock waiting in his office and a strong suspicion that Jim genuinely needed to be alone for a little while. Privacy was hard to come by when recovering from death.

“You know I love you, Jim, don’t you? You know I’d do anything for you?”

“Yeah Bones.” Jim met his gaze and smiled, weakly. Leonard didn’t trust it, or the bland statement that followed. “I love you too.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jim was sleeping, which was nothing new. He’d endured a great deal of scans and tests that morning, and after managing some lunch he was floored and completely zonked out. Leonard sat beside his bed, which was nothing new either. Phil was on shift for Jim, allowing Leonard some time to stare at his boyfriend’s sleeping form and feel miserable. Pike had been there, earlier, but too soon he’d been needed at his _actual_ job at Starfleet. Leonard didn’t doubt he’d be back first thing in the morning, though, to have breakfast with them before he had to leave again. That being said, he _had_ left Leonard one hell of a bottle of whiskey to thank him for saving Jim’s life- and though Leonard couldn’t fathom the sentiment, he appreciated the gesture. He hadn’t _saved_ Jim’s life. He’d just found the way to start it again. It was Jim doing all the hard work. Jim, suffering for it. Jim- scared to face his own crew, or ship. It was not worthy of a gift, but Leonard took it with a grim smile and sipped it slowly anyway. Hell, he’d have to save the rest to celebrate Jim’s recovery with. Not that recovery was a destination; certainly not one that Jim could ever reach. Not now.

Spock had appeared at some point, standing by the door and staring at Leonard unnervingly until he’d barked at the hobgoblin to sit down or get lost. They’d sat in silence for a while, Jim’s bed between them as quite possibly the only thing that made them talk to each other. Jim was like that. But hell, Leonard wasn’t too proud to turn down intelligent company- and he was too damn drunk to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much he realised it was a bad idea to complain. After all, what did he even have to complain about.

“Why isn’t he improving faster?” He asked, nonetheless. “He’s got super blood in his veins- that should be _aiding_ his recovery.” It did occur to Leonard, repeatedly, that whining to Spock was a useless and unnecessary pursuit- he wasn’t _Jim._ He didn’t have that same comradery with Spock. And Spock wasn’t worth a damn when it came to sympathy.

“Khan’s blood was essential to kick-starting the systems required for Jim’s prolonged life. You are aware, Doctor, that Jim still lives in a body that has already completed a shutdown.”

Fuck Spock. He made it all sound so mechanical. Humans didn’t shut down or switch off. Jim didn’t- never could.

“I know.” He heaved out a sigh, anyway, because he didn’t have the energy for an argument. Not when Spock had made the effort to come all the way to medical to see Jim, and not when Spock had essentially enabled Jim’s ‘prolonged life’, as he called it, in the first place. “I know Spock. I just… god, I’ve never seen him like this.” He knocked back the rest of his drink, depositing his empty glass on Jim’s bedside table. “When I first met him, at the Academy, I don’t think he ate or slept. But he still looked like the epitome of health.” He thought on it, remembered the first time Jim had crawled into his sheets and pleaded to just stay, to sleep. “From a distance.” He corrected himself, awkwardly.

Jim _had_ improved, Leonard couldn’t deny that- even if it felt so utterly unrewarding at times. He was starting to remain conscious for a little longer now. Sending boyish grins to Pike. Asking Spock to tell him about the investigation and the rest of the crew, who remained unwelcome to his recovery suite as of yet. He’d even made an effort not to shut himself off from Phil, despite his Doctor status, asking him for stories about Pike as a Captain, and then using them against his mentor mercilessly. Sometimes, it was like nothing was wrong with Jim at all. The hospital faded away, and all that remained was that blazing smile.

It was only when he was alone with Leonard that he seemed to drop that cheery persona. Still, so heartbroken. So crushed. Those pretty blue eyes, all fluttering eyelashes and bright, flirty gazes would just fill with tears instead. And Leonard… Leonard couldn’t even hold him, because that would screw up the bio-bed. So he just took his hand and pressed kiss after kiss to his forehead, and tried to soothe him until he slept again. Sometimes, Jim spoke. Whispered how sorry he was and how scared he’d been and how, in his nightmares, he always fails and it’s always Leonard’s body that he finds battered in the smouldering ruins of the Enterprise and San Francisco.

Leonard had no intention of telling Jim, but his nightmares tended to resolve around his own failure to bring Jim back. And that was far closer to potentially having happened than Jim would ever have almost let the ship down. But his own problems could wait. Jim was the one really suffering, who needed someone strong to take him by the hand and guide him out of this hell hole. That was Leonard’s job now. Him and Pike and Spock, they’d manage it again.

“Jim’s attitude and optimism has been exemplary from my own observations, Doctor. If he shows weakness only to you, it is not illogical to assume you are becoming demotivated.” Spock looked at Leonard from the other side of Jim’s bed, his face neutral and unassuming. “I assure you, Leonard, I am more than confident that, physically, the Captain will be able to re-join the Enterprise by the time of her completion.”

“But mentally…”

“I would not presume to understand the significance of the Captain’s trauma, or the human ways in which he will deal with it now that he is able to dedicate more energy to thought.”

Leonard actually laughed a little then, shocking himself to find he was actually grateful that Spock was sticking around too. He was both encouraging and utterly morbid in his assessment of Jim’s situation, but that was good. Jim was the optimist, Leonard the pessimist, and Spock the realist. It all worked out, in the end.

“Jim’s been through a lot in his life, Spock. I’m sure you’ve picked up on some of it and been too polite to ask.” The look on Spock’s face remained impassive, and Leonard would have kicked him if he wasn’t a stupidly strong Vulcan – and sat with a bed between them. “There are times… god, there are times he wakes up in the middle of the night and he stares at me for a full minute before he recognises me.” And though they were few and far between – a whole year, once, before Nero screwed everything up – it still killed Leonard. He hated himself for it, but he had never worked up the nerve to ask what went through Jim’s mind at those times. It was selfish, but he didn’t want to know. If Jim saw Frank or Tarsus or Kodos- any of it, it made Leonard feel sick to his stomach. It was easier to imagine Jim just saw darkness, and then finally the world returned to him and Leonard was there to welcome him back.

“Are you concerned, then, for the Captain’s capacity to withstand emotional turmoil – or for your own capacity?”

Bones stared, blood rushing to his head in anger and making his ears go hot. His initial reaction was to – god – throw _something._ But there was nothing in reach, and he didn’t want to wake Jim, and dammit Spock was so much stronger than he was anyway so throwing a punch would be useless and probably counterproductive. He’d seen Spock and Jim doing their sparring, and Jim _never_ came out on top.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Spock? You think I’m going to walk out on him?”

“I suggested no such thing, Doctor.” Spock’s brows furrowed only slightly. “I am merely trying to demonstrate to you that your own mental health need not be compromised for the sake of Jim. You have suffered immeasurably and incomparably. Your health and recovery are, in a way, essential to the Captain’s.”

“Spock…” Leonard didn’t actually know what to say, his anger dissipating almost instantly. Maybe that Spock was wrong- Leonard had endured more sleepless nights than he could remember for James Kirk, and it hadn’t really hurt him in the long run. Or, perhaps, that Jim had never made him compromise damn shit besides his intention of remaining with two feet planted on solid ground. Aside from that, Jim had only ever done his own thing. Leonard had just… gotten swept into the mix of things, at some point. Somehow. Just followed along, always.

“Listen to the man, Bones. He’s more perceptive than he lets on around us humans.”

Leonard’s solemn gaze shifted slowly to the man lying on the bed between them. Jim’s eyes were open, just about, and only moderately bloodshot. His focus was strong, though, and fixed on Leonard. Sometimes, he thought those pretty blues could see right into his soul. He was just sick of seeing them looking up at him from a hospital bed. And god, that mop of blonde curls needed cleaning again, and brushing to stop it plastering against his face.

“You should be sleeping, Kid.”

“Sorry, my CMO was disclosing my mental health history to my First Officer. They’re the kind of conversations I like to be awake for. Jesus Christ, it’s bad enough that Phil knows now too.” There was no real bite to Jim’s words, but Leonard couldn’t say if that was really because he was only teasing, or if he was just too tired to emphasise his hurt. Either way, it put the fear of living god into Leonard, and he reacted solely by glaring at Spock. That green-blooded bastard _knew_ Jim was awake.

“If it is any consolation, Captain, Admiral Pike is a more talkative drunk than Doctor McCoy.” Spock said, and dammit that was the smuggest Leonard had ever seen a Vulcan look- selling them all out. What else were they going to talk about? The Weather? All their lives now revolved around Jim. He was likely to be their sole topic of conversation – along with, maybe the Enterprise – for the foreseeable future.

“Great, thanks Spock.” Jim murmured, and Leonard hung his head in utter defeat. He wanted more whiskey, but something told him that was probably a bad idea.

“Thanks are unnecessary, Captain. If you will excuse me, I have a prior engagement to attend.”

Leonard heard the scraping of a chair, only for a moment, and Jim’s hushed farewell, before Spock left the room and the doors closed behind him. The floor was spotless, as Leonard stared at it and – lord, he needed to go home at some point and do some laundry. Or, hell, maybe he could convince Christine to go buy him some clothes and bring them to the hospital.

“Can I sit up, Bones?” Jim asked, softly still, enough to convince Leonard that he wasn’t actually angry.

Leonard couldn’t deny him that, not when they were actively encouraging him to sit up and stay awake for longer. As much as he wanted Jim to sleep, so he could escape to his office and let sleep claim _him_ too, just for a few hours, he couldn’t. He lifted his head and nodded, stood and helped Jim sit up and bringing the bed up to a reasonable incline for him. He looked better, now. More awake, and less utterly white. Still too pale, from staying indoors and feeling nauseas for half of most days, but better. Brighter, even.

“I know…” Jim began, reaching for Leonard’s hand. Leonard gave it to him, of course. He had no option. Not when he was still so achingly relieved every time he felt the gentle squeeze of Jim’s fingers against his, or brushed his thumb against Jim’s pulse. He wanted to hold that hand for eternity. “I know that this isn’t going to be easy. I mean, it’s going to take a while. There’s a lot we need to work through.”

“That’s an understatement, Kid.” Leonard whispered, raising their joint hands and pressing a kiss to Jim’s knuckles. “We’ve got time.” _Now._ And all the time in the world, if Leonard had any say in it at all.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks to you.” Jim looked painfully young- like that first night he’d crept into Leonard’s room. Because Jim always acted tough, and strong, and cocky, right till the dead of night. Then, Jim was just younger. It had taken Leonard too long to realise that at those times, Jim wasn’t Jim, but he was the kid he’d never really gotten over being. Leonard had learned slowly about Winona and Frank, Sam and Tarsus, and all the ways Jim had tried to repress before meeting Pike. From then on, when he saw a vulnerable James Kirk… a scared James Kirk, it was far more terrifying than anything anyone else saw. They had no idea- no idea what that brilliant man was capable of. Surviving – that was _everything_.

“Jim-”

“Bones, you’re my best friend.” Jim interrupted, his tone surprisingly level. “You’re my partner. I love you more than I thought I could ever love anything. And I’m sorry.” His hand around Leonard’s tightened considerably, far beyond any of his initial weak grasps after waking up. At the time, they’d been incomparably rewarding, but Leonard realised now that this was better. Sure, mentally and emotionally they had a long way to go. But a conscious Jim- a Jim that was fighting back, determined to get better, _holding_ Leonard. That was unbeatable.

“I’m so sorry I left you. I’m sorry for every sleepless night. I’m sorry I ever dragged you out to space- god, I’m so sorry!” Throughout his rambling, his blue eyes searched Leonard’s face, desperate, and _alive_. Of course, Leonard crumbled. For the first time since Jim’s body had first turned up in his medbay. In a damn body bag, already. _Captain James T. Kirk, deceased_. Only he wasn’t- he was there, right there, in front of Leonard. Breathing. Alive. Recovering. And one day, in a month or two, they’d walk out of those hospital doors and not look back. Maybe go on holiday somewhere hot and lazy.

Leonard sobbed before the first tear fell, and Jim’s free hand tugged at his wires for a moment so he could reach over and wipe them away.

“Just don’t – don’t do it again, Jim.” Leonard told him, and just about caught Jim’s frantic nod of a reply before he buried his head against Jim’s hip and hid his face from the man. Dammit, now was _not_ the time for a breakdown! Jim was the one who’d died. Jim was the one suffering survivor’s guilt and PTSD and god knows what else. Leonard had no right to a breakdown. He had only done his job.

“I won’t.” Jim said, anyway, when he should have been telling Leonard to get over himself. “God, I won’t ever, Bones. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” His hands buried into Leonard’s hair. Not a soothing stroke, but a grip to prove he was still there and had no intention of leaving. Leonard breathed in his scent, tried to find some composure, tried not to worry about his inference with the bio-bed- or that Boyce would probably come running in any second to check on Jim’s whacked levels. None of that mattered, because Jim was right there. His irritating, git of a younger friend. His boyfriend. His Captain. Alive, and getting stronger every day.

“I’m right here, Bones. We can do this. You don’t have to be strong for me, okay? We have Spock and Pike for that. Just don’t leave me.” Jim said firmly. “We’ll do it all together, alright? I don’t need my doctor anymore. I need you, Bones.” He said, as if there was a difference. Maybe there was. Leonard sure as hell didn’t see himself ever as _not Jim’s Doctor,_ but there were definitely times he’d refused to be _Bones_ until Jim had gotten his act together. But what Jim wanted, he got. God only knew, Leonard didn’t know how much more he could take of analysing his boyfriend’s blood and scans. He could step aside, easily. Hand the torch to Boyce. Leave the rest to physical therapists and counsellors and dieticians. Leonard could oversee, observe, advise and instruct- but he could do all of that as Bones. He could do that, for Jim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will get easier soon, I swear.


	5. Chapter 5

“I think you’re making the right decision, Leonard, if it’s any consolation.” Phil told him. The older Doctor had an easy, confident manner not unlike Pike’s. Leonard almost – almost – felt confident in what he was doing. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t doing it primarily because Jim had asked him, and at this point he had more chance of taking up piloting for a hobby than denying his boyfriend anything. That being said, it had taken him _days_ to actually act on Jim’s request. “You got him out of the danger zone. He’s going to need your support now, as a friend.”

“Yeah, right.” Leonard signed the PADD, transferring primary care to Boyce, and handed it back over to the other man. “Thanks, Phil. And let me know when M’Benga gets in, would ya? I want to be there when you apprise him of the situation.”

“Of course.” And thank god for that, because Leonard didn’t think he could handle being totally removed from Jim’s medical recovery. He was still ‘Jim’s Doctor’, after all. He’d just… stepped away from this one. For Jim. To be Bones, and not Doctor McCoy. That was more important. To Jim, in any case. Leonard was still struggling to see a difference. He’d been a kid, then he’d been a Doctor- and Jim had put plenty of effort into ending up as his main patient over the years.

“Alright. I’ll go and… be with Jim then.”

“I’ll try and convince Nurse Chapel to bring you some lunch in an hour. See if you can convince Jim to eat a little more now.”

Leonard snorted. That had been hard enough when Jim hadn’t just physically died- and it was even harder now. Bedrest had screwed him over with a temporary glucose intolerance, and Jim was still allergic to everything he had been before. He _was_ gaining weight, but not quite at the rate they wanted. Leonard tried not to think too hard about it, but it definitely wasn’t the rate required if Jim wanted to pass his physicals to get back onto the Enterprise. If he even _wanted_ to. But then, that shouldn’t have mattered. The Jim Kirk Leonard knew had always cared about muscle and his weight- never once had he looked so threateningly small. Leonard looked at him, sometimes, and imagined the little starved kid some stranger had taken away from Tarsus. It wasn’t fair that Jim had to go through this all over again.

Returning to Jim’s suite was getting easier and easier with each passing day. At first, it had been a barren and cold hospital room. Now, as Jim got stronger, it became more ‘Kirk’. With presents from the crew – Jim hadn’t really been able to turn those down, though they had made him obviously uncomfortable at first. The Hikaru family had sent him knitted blankets, pillows and an adorable, if ineffective, dreamcatcher that their little girl had made. Jim had tried not to cry, and hung it off the screen above the head of his bed. Nyota had sent books, real and antique. There were flowers on nearly every surface, cards with well-wishes and prayers and kind messages.

Besides the room itself, there was Jim. Jim, whose eyes were a little brighter every day. Who sat up now, more often than not. He’d play chess with Spock, read his books until his eyes went heavy and he’d drift off. Most importantly, he’d had his first counselling session. Though he’d been clearly despondent and fragile afterwards, he’d still spoken softly and steadily when he asked Leonard to stay beside him that night. Jim had spent most of his life being dependent on only himself, while everyone else left. He bore the mark well, never clingy or desperate. But that night, Leonard hadn’t even needed the shy request. He liked to think he could read his boyfriend very well, by now. He’d never had any intention of leaving him. Leonard had set up camp in the visitors chair all night. When the next morning came Leonard had sat up, aching and stiff, and he didn’t actually think Jim had slept at all. But he’d been brighter, despite that. Rejuvenated with some sort of acceptance that Leonard could only assume had come from his therapy.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like things might be okay. Slowly, still, and gruellingly so. But okay, nonetheless. Leonard didn’t need to be on alert 24/7 just in case Jim suddenly stopped living again. He was alive, breathing, recovering.  All Leonard needed to do was be there for him, and that was precisely why he’d signed off primary care to Boyce. So that he could be in Jim’s suite, irritating him that way instead of sticking needles in him for blood and hiding away in the labs running tests on it.

It was certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else. Leonard entered Jim’s suite with a sense of determined acceptance. There would be good days, and bad days. But at least there would be days- spent together, and fighting.

“Bones!”

Leonard stood still by the door and stared in awe, at his boyfriend, stood out of bed. Leaning heavily on a walking support, but upright nonetheless. His pyjamas hung off him still, but his arms didn’t look so bad pushing up on his support. And he was _upright._

“Dammit Jim, you’re not meant to attempt that without someone here! What if you’d fallen?” Not that Leonard was exactly surprised, or even worried. Jim was singularly determined and he’d wedged himself closely to the bed and chair. Although, that meant Jim _had_ been worried about falling- and that was a cruel reality.

“Pft, alright Doctor.” Jim grinned at him then, and it was _stunning_. A genuine broad smile, like Jim was in his early twenties again and had the whole world at his feet. It floored Leonard. Jim was out of bed and smiling, and it made the weeks of agony almost worth _something,_ because he’d gotten to this point. Jim was stood, and lord, he didn’t at all look so small when he wasn’t tangled up in bedsheets. His bedhead looked even worse when not against a pillow- but the look was salvaged entirely by that _grin._ If Leonard ignored everything else, it could have been just another morning at the Academy. Jim sliding out of their bed, naked and confident, and just waiting for Leonard to approach like he knew Leonard would. There was never any doubt about that.

“No, actually.” He managed to get out, coughing quickly to cover the sudden hoarseness in his tone. “Not a Doctor for you anyway.” He amended – though unless Pike could pull any more strings, he’d have to start working actual shifts at the hospital now that he wasn’t dedicated solely to _the_ Captain Kirk.

Jim frowned, confusion twisting his features. That, or the effort of maintaining his upright position. “I don’t understand?”

“I’m off the case, Jimmy. Phil’s your primary physician now. With help from M’Benga and Nurse Chapel – lucky you. No more prodding and poking from me.” Leonard moved forward to help, taking some of Jim’s weight as he settled back on the bed. “That is what you wanted- isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jim replied, deftly. Round blue eyes were trained on Leonard, glassy and showing emotions Jim normally let surface approximately twice a year. Pure vulnerability. The dazzling grin was gone, but there was still a  curve to his lips. A sort of awed shock that made his heart ache again. For the first time in weeks, Leonard thought he could just lean forward and kiss his boyfriend.

“I mean, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Leonard admitted, gruffly. “Come on, show me how you stood up again and I’ll treat you to lunch.”

 

 

 

_KIRK._

_Jim, please. Let us visit you. It’s not fair that Spock and Christine get to see you, and I don’t. If you don’t give me a decent explanation soon, I’m going to storm that hospital. Don’t test me. Between me, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov – I’m pretty sure we could find you. Best Wishes, Nyota._

Jim shivered slightly, dropping his PADD down by his knees. He didn’t know what to say- what to do. Bones and Spock, and Chapel too, kept making reports on how he’d improved and how well he was doing. Of course he couldn’t keep making excuses that he was too tired, too ill to see their friends. Friends, though, or crew. Jim wasn’t sure if there was a distinction any more, and all he saw were the lives he’d almost lost. How could he face Ben and little Demora, and not think about the fact he might have gotten Hikaru killed? He couldn’t avoid it forever and, out of the ever expanding ‘to tackle at some point’ list that Bones seemed to be keeping track of, it seemed one of the first issues that needed dealing with. Only, seeing the crew meant talking about the Enterprise and the mission and fucking hell, Jim _couldn’t._ He didn’t deserve the captaincy back, couldn’t face death- not again. It had been scary and lonely, and it had _sucked_. He was tired of just surviving. Not when every thought, every blink, every short breath reminded him he had died. And he couldn’t scream or cry about it, not when Leonard was plastering that stubborn brave face on every day again.

Bones wouldn’t want to go up there again, he figured. Who could blame him? He deserved more than to follow Jim to the ends of the universe, patching him up whenever he got himself into trouble and ignoring his own wants and needs. God, Jim had died without ever really thinking about their future together- and he’d almost missed out on the opportunity to ever do so. He wanted to kiss Leonard again – in fact, that was actually the top of his own personal to-do list – and he wanted to propose to him, dance with him, sleep with his boyfriend. Then marry him. Marry Leonard McCoy and live for a very long time. Watch their children grow, safely. See Bones kiss their knees and stick plasters on them when they’d fallen over.

“You’re quiet today, Son.”

Jim neglected to mention that, when he’d woken from his afternoon nap, Pike had been sleeping himself- dozing in his chair by Jim’s bed.

“Thinking, I guess. Precisely what everyone always tells me to do.” He attempted a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. At least, that’s what he’d been told before. He got the feeling now, from Bones especially, that they’d prefer it if he _didn’t_ think too hard about anything. His counsellor, at least, seemed satisfied with his well-practiced insights into his childhood. _Well, yes, I always felt considerable pressure from my mother after my father’s death. I wanted attention as a child. Tarsus was a real turning point for me. Admiral Pike gave me a second chance._ And now, the recently added _Death is scary, but it’s made me appreciate life even more now that I have another chance._

If there was one thing James T. Kirk could do, it was bullshit mental health professionals. But really, he wasn’t sure what the hell they expected from him. Did they want him to confess that he didn’t actually think Leonard should have brought him back? That every time he was plunged into darkness- blinking, lights, sleep, getting changed – he felt like he was dying all over again. Fuck, no. He’d keep that shit to himself. God forbid it ever somehow got back to Bones. That, he couldn’t tolerate. Bones would _never_ find out how fucked Jim was.

“What’s on your mind, Kirk?” Pike asked.

 “Got a message from Uhura.” Jim nudged the PADD towards his mentor. “She scares me when she’s being nice to me.”

Pike read quickly, his brow furrowing, and then he quickly tapped out a reply and handed it back to Jim.

_Lieutenant Uhura. Captain Kirk is currently only accepting special access personnel and health professionals e.g. Nurse Chapel. If you do not intend to adhere to Starfleet procedures at this time, please inform myself or Commander Spock, so that we can post more security on the hospital. Kind regards, Admiral Christopher Pike._

Jim laughed loudly, hitting send on the message without a hint of remorse. God, it was good to have friends in high places. If he stayed planet-side, if he didn’t return to the ship, he figured he could get a job as an engineer. He could go back to studying himself- while Leonard earned the dough at Starfleet medical. He had options on Earth, at least. Then he might get to a high place himself- help out Spock when he was off, Captaining the Enterprise. Only _if,_ though. Everything was still daunting, and up in the air, and undecided.

“Thanks, Chris, that was great.” He dropped the PADD again. “Speaking of- where is Spock? I thought he’d come in today.” He was still trying to find a polite way to tell his friend to bugger off back to New Vulcan to get over, well, Jim’s death. Or, more specifically, his reaction to it. Jim had finally been allowed his PADD a few days prior- he’d been told all about what had happened by Spock finally- in person – but it wasn’t the same as seeing the few short vids taken of Spock and Khan, and then Nyota. In fact, that had wrecked him for a whole day- and he’d ended up actually speaking to his counsellor about that one.

“He’s had to go to the Enterprise to run through some of the changes with Scotty.” That, in itself, felt like a punch to the stomach. Therein Jim’s problem lay. He didn’t want the Enterprise- wanted to pretend she didn’t exist at all, in fact. But the idea that Spock was there, playing the role _he_ was supposed to be in… it hurt. “He said he’ll present them to you himself if you can’t see Scott yet, and you can decide which ones you want to approve together.”

“Great.” Jim said, lamely, picking imaginary fluff from his bedsheets.

“Hey-” Pike grabbed his wrist suddenly. The action was enough to snap Jim’s gaze back to the older man. He felt painfully like a child being reprimanded for sulking- but that was a joke, because sulking had been the least of his own troubles as a kid. “No-one’s said anything about going back out there yet, Jim. You got another eight months off, no matter what. But you’re smart and you know that ship, so whether you take her back when this year is over or not, you’re going to help Spock go through the refits.” It wasn’t a question, nor quite a statement – it was an order. “Understood?”

Somehow, and Jim couldn’t fathom how or when Pike had picked up the right skills to deal with him at his most despondent, he actually felt better. The crushing weight of uncertainty around his decision vanished, and the order stuck with him. “Yes, sir.” he replied, dutifully.


	6. Chapter 6

The floor of Jim’s recovery suite was quiet by the time Leonard got off shift, showered, changed and made his way up to see his boyfriend. The quiet was calm and welcoming, and as Leonard walked he felt more peaceful than he could remember feeling in a long time. Boyce had gone home already, but Chapel was on shift that night and tending to a few rooms on that floor. Leonard anticipated another quiet night, sat in Jim’s bed – now that he’d been upgraded from a bio-bed to a wristband to encourage movement. It was another little mercy- a landmark that both encouraged and motivated Jim. The step up had a noticeable impact on Jim’s mentality- Leonard had seen it. He’d watched it from Jim’s side, smiling. For once, the companion and not just the Doctor. Well, for Jim's sake anyway. He still spoke about the actual science behind it with Boyce, in the privacy of their offices. Leonard had made a particular effort not to talk technical when Jim could hear them- it made him feel like a test subject, not a person. Leonard had made that mistake far too many times, before he properly knew Jim. He had no intention of carrying on now, when Jim needed him most. 

“Good evening, Leonard.” Chapel called from somewhere behind him, sounding unbearably chirpy, as if it wasn’t nearing ten at night. Leonard was good at staying awake and alert, like anyone in the medical profession had to be, but he knew first-hand how hard it was to be consistently cheery. He probably owed Christine Chapel credit for the running of his sickbay on the Enterprise- she was an incomparable force within his team.

Leonard just waved briefly over his shoulder, shooting her a lazy smile before he pressed his way into Jim’s suite. His calm, his peace, his sweet tired bliss, all left him instantly. Jim’s bed was empty. Leonard's eyes followed the dropped bedsheets downwards, and he slowly took in the sight of his boyfriend. Jim, strong and brave and kind, curled up on the cold floor, halfway between his bed and the wall, crying harder than he had done in a long while. 

“Jesus Christ- Jim!” He stared for what felt like an eternity, but his body kicked itself into gear. He flung himself around the bed, towards Jim, assessing him quickly like he would any medical emergency he found on the floor. “Jim, what happened?"

“I’m fine- I’m fine.” Jim exclaimed, but the tears betrayed him. He didn’t actually seem to be injured though. No broken bones or even bruises that Leonard could spot with his trained gaze. But Jim was… almost hysterical. His skin was both pale and blotched with red, from crying. His limbs seemed heavier from weakness, and cold from where Jim had lay, crumpled on the floor.

“You’re okay… it’s okay, Jimmy.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the stars- Bones.” He was overwrought with fresh sobs, and allowed Leonard to pull him up off the floor, into his lap, with little resistance. Despite every urge to call Chapel in for assistance, Leonard stayed precisely where he was. Jim didn’t need anyone seeing him like this, and he wasn’t hurt, so they could just sit there for a while. He stroked one hand through Jim’s hair and the other one down his arm in an attempt to warm him up a little again. What he really wanted to do was help the kid back into his bed, wrap him up in blankets and put him out of his misery with a quickly administered hypo. That just couldn’t be done, though.

“Dammit, Jim, you terrified me.” It was only recently he’d stepped it up a gear in his muscle strengthening, but Jim should have _known_ not to attempt walking without someone there – let alone without aids. He just wasn’t used to the motions anymore, and building his stamina would take time. “How long have you been down here?”

“Not long.” Jim assured him, rubbing at his eyes furiously. “I’m sorry. I was stupid.”

“Damn right you were.” Leonard pressed a kiss to Jim’s hair, if only to hide his own face for a moment. This was hard. It was _hard_ to see Jim like this, crumpled on the floor and weak and crying. He could act for all he liked that it was just because he couldn’t be independent yet, but there had to be more to that. Leonard suspected it was a hundred reasons, really- reasons he’d not even begun to really reflect on properly. But when he said he wanted to see the stars, Leonard sort of believed him. If there was anything Jim had ever looked to, it was the stars. More than Pike and Leonard, more than books and grades and his Father’s legacy. He’d always just wanted to be up, among the stars. It was his destiny, dammit, and Khan was still ruining everything. Jim might never go back, and nothing seemed to be getting easier.

Jim pulled back suddenly, eyes shining with tears again and his jaw set, angry. Dammit, Leonard knew that it was going to be tough and emotional, but this was beyond his capacity to cope with.

“Don’t do that!”

“What?”

“Kiss my head like I’m a kid.” Jim shouted, unnecessarily given the lack of distance between them. Leonard tried to breathe, tried to remember that Jim was angry and it wasn’t actually Leonard's fault. It would just take him a while to get through this. That was, at least, easier than remembering it actually _was_ Leonard’s fault Jim was so angry. Why he was hurting so much. Because Leonard had damned everything he’d ever been taught about life and death- disregarded it to bring back the man he loved. Was he supposed to expect Jim to be grateful? No, Leonard thought, he was self-aware enough to recognise his decision had been superbly selfish.

“It’s supposed to be comforting.”

“Comforting?!” His blue eyes were hard, vicious, and more angry than Leonard had seen them since Jim had woken up. They sure as hell had never been that cold to Leonard, anyway. It was like a punch to the gut. “Comforting would be you actually looking at me like I’m your fucking boyfriend and not your patient still! Comforting would be touching me like I’m not going to break.” Jim’s hand hit the floor beside him, and it would have been reminiscent of a kid having a tantrum were it not for the fact that Leonard could physically feel his heart breaking.

“I mean Jesus, Leonard, do you actually plan on ever kissing me properly again? Or is that like chess and news reports and my PADD? Is it just another little reward I’ve gotta work for?”

If there had been any breath in Leonard’s lungs, it was knocked out, and there was a little eternity in which he just stared at Jim, still cradled loosely in his arms, and wondered how much more it was possible to hurt in this life.

“Jim-”

A soft knock at the door interrupted him, before door opened suddenly, and Leonard was almost grateful, because it meant he didn’t have to answer. Until he saw Uhura slipping into the room, uninvited and still lacking the actual permission she’d required from Boyce, Jim, hell- Pike, frankly. She looked about as nervous about her decision as Leonard was going to make her for their every encounter from then on. That being said, he still couldn’t deny his relief outweighed his anger at that moment.

“Jim!” It seemed to take Uhura a moment to recognise that on the floor, crying, pale and tear-streaked face, wasn’t a normal situation. “I’m so sorry, I just wanted to see you- I thought you’d be sleeping-”

“Lieutenant!” Leonard interrupted, his tone cutting. “Fetch Nurse Chapel, and tell her to bring me a tricorder and hypospray.” He instructed, feeling Jim tense against him fractionally. He’d resist being injected with anything tonight, Leonard thought, and they’d argue until Leonard stormed out. It had happened that way a dozen times before, in any case.

Uhura stared for a moment longer. It wasn’t quite pity in her expression, but horror at the sight of her Captain. She quickly snapped into action at the sight of Leonard’s glare, and turned on her heel back out into the corridor.

“I told you, I’m fine.” Jim said quietly, going completely limp as Leonard tried to pull him up off the floor. He wasn’t a Doctor for nothing, though, and he’d carried an injured or hopelessly drunk Jim to bed at least fifty times already. It helped that Jim was 20 pounds lighter than he had been at the height of his pursuit of weight and muscle. Leonard manoeuvred him on the bed, until Jim stopped being so stubborn and shuffled himself to a more reasonable position.

“You’re not fine, Jim.” Leonard said, wearily. “You’re not fine, and I’m not fine.”

Jim twisted his head back to the door and refused to meet his gaze, let alone reply. The door swung open again and Christine joined them, looking appalled that she’d let an incident occur between her last trip to Jim’s suite and Leonard’s arrival. Uhura followed her inside, but hovered by the door, hands clasped to her mouth. Leonard wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d snuck into his hospital room. She knew Jim hadn’t been ready for visitors, and this was precisely why. Because he was still struggling and stubborn, and refused to accept help when he needed it most. Leonard had been convinced Jim was being open with him, but the truth was far from- clearly. Jim was improvising just as much as the rest of them.

“I’m so sorry, Captain – Doctor McCoy-”

“It’s not your fault, Chris.” Leonard said quietly, too angry to bother pointing out that it was, in fact, Jim’s fault. “I don’t think he’s hurt, but run him over with the tricorder anyway, then send Pike and Boyce an update. If there are any issues, I’ll be in my office. Aside from that, get in touch with PT in the morning and arrange for the Captain to increase his sessions, since he’s clearly desperate to build up his strength.” Leonard had no damn good reason to be angry. He knew it, but it didn’t stop him sort of loathing Jim at that moment anyway. Damn him, damn everything for hurting so much.

“Yes, Doctor McCoy.”

“Thanks, Chris. Nyota, with me if you don’t mind.” He spared Jim one last glance, but his boyfriend still refused to look at him. It hurt more than it should have done, considering they were both angry and tired. Leonard at least wasn’t being childish, and removing himself from the situation was probably better than staying and yelling for no valid reason.

The door closed behind them, and the peaceful quiet of Medical was now just eerie and unwelcome. Nyota looked heartbroken when he turned to look at her, exhaustion seeping through his bones.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry Leonard. I thought he’d be sleeping, I thought I could just pop in and see him. I had no idea-”

“Yeah well, if it’s any consolation tonight has been a bit of an anomaly.” The urge to kick the wall beside him was overwhelming. “He was doing better, dammit.” He began striding towards his office, unable to stand still, unable to get the images of Jim out of his head. Dead, in a body bag. Broken, crying on the floor. Nyota kept up, hurrying beside him.

“These things take time. I’d get frustrated too.” Nyota reasoned, and it was a valid point. That didn’t mean Leonard couldn’t be pissed though- not when she hadn’t seen Jim in the beginning, weak and small and terrified. How he’d cried every night, gasped in breaths like he was dying still, and never even smiled. He’d come so far, and the realisation he’d been lying… Leonard’s throat felt tight again.

“Yeah, I know.” He opened the door to his office and gestured for Nyota to enter, before following her in. “I’m sorry for keeping you away. I should have given you a proper explanation. He’s just… not ready yet. He wants to be stronger before you all see him. I don’t know… he’s so scared, still, and I’m just as bad. I can’t help him.” He couldn’t even _kiss_ him, and Jim had noticed.

“Leonard, you know that’s not true. Holy- have you been _living_ here?” She asked, suddenly, staring around his mess of an office. He’d stopped noticing it himself, after a while – the clothes hanging up and the research and books, the reports on Jim’s blood pinned up on most available surfaces – but now, he saw it through Nyota’s eyes and her shock was probably worthy. “You know, Jim’s never told me that much about himself. I’ve worked out bits and pieces, over the years, but I’ll bet I don’t know the half of it.”

“Yeah, probably.” Leonard agreed. Hell, sometimes he wondered if _he_ even knew the half of it. Jim was a bottomless well of awful memories and stories; they came out once in a while, on bad days.

“But I think I’m right when I say that you and Admiral Pike are probably the only people who’ve ever stuck with Jim no matter what.” She reached for his office door, opening it slowly. “Don’t lose hope because of one bad day.” She departed then, with a small, apologetic nod.

Leonard dropped into his desk chair, slowly becoming aware of a growing ache at the back of his head. He needed to sleep. He also needed to explain himself to Jim, which first meant he had to work out what the hell he was feeling. Maybe when he’d done that he’d have any sort of right to ask the same of Jim.


	7. Chapter 7

Jim woke suddenly, the memory of dying slipping from his vision replaced with the cool noises of his hospital room, and a strong grip on his shoulders jarring him from sleep. He sucked in air through his teeth, his lungs rebelling against him as he tried to go through the mental checklist that his therapist had him doing, to remind himself where he was. He forced himself to take another deep breath, and then he opened his eyes.

“Bones.”

His boyfriend looked just about as bad as Jim felt; pale and tired, with dark bags beneath his eyes and god-awful hair. Everything that had happened the previous night came flooding back to Jim in that instant, and his heart raced again. He’d fucked up. Really, insulted Bones badly and gotten himself in a mess- and _shit_ , Nyota had seen him, and everything was terrible. He struggled to sit up, too distracted by his boyfriend to even contemplate worrying about his nightmare. Nightmares, he could cope with. He’d endured them for years before now, and would for as long as he could imagine living – though, clearly, his estimates for that were truly fucked with Bones around to drag him back to the world of the living. Yet Bones, his wonderful companion, his boyfriend who looked like he hadn’t slept properly in weeks, helped him sit without reservation or hesitation. Just the kindness of his heart.

“You okay?” Bones asked him, quietly in the dark hospital suite.

“Yeah.” He said, shakily, as if that resembled anything even vaguely convincing. “Just a nightmare. What time is it?” He could see the cogs turning behind Leonard’s eyes. Usually, after so many years of nightmares and insomnia and broken sleep, Leonard would just nod and offer Jim a kiss and some bourbon. Now, he hesitated. He hesitated and looked at Jim, scared, still. Always scared. Jim had thought it would get better, with time, as he got stronger. As of yet, it hadn’t. That was half the problem. He just wanted his boyfriend back. Preferably out of hospital. In their nice apartment, overlooking San Francisco. Jim would beg Leonard to take him out to a bar, like the old days, and Leonard would use nefarious bribes to get him to stay home – and that would end up being infinitely more fun anyway.

“Nearly four.” Leonard replied. Jim wasn’t sure why he was even there. He should have been at home- sleeping, Jesus, he _needed_ it. Knowing Bones, though, he would have been in his office- would have seen his readings change from the nightmare, and come to wake Jim out of duty. Or, maybe, he’d already been sat beside his bed, watching him sleep, deciding he was through with Jim and his stupid mistakes. Jim wanted to know- couldn’t understand why Leonard _stayed._ Why he even bothered. Of course, he hadn’t once been awake since his death and not known with certainty that Leonard was in the hospital somewhere. He didn’t know for sure the man had been home at all

“You wanna talk about it?”

If he hadn’t cried himself to sleep hours earlier, once Chapel had finally left him alone, he might have burst out into tears again. Leonard didn’t _need_ to ask that. It definitely wasn’t his duty. But god, Jim wasn’t sure he did want to talk about it- even to Bones. Between counselling and Pike’s visits, and late night break downs, he was sick of talking. He wanted action. He wanted to get better, not sit around pandering to his own nightmares. That was how he’d coped after Tarsus. He’d fought, fought like hell to recover. It came naturally to him. He’d fought to survive _on_ Tarsus, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to stop once he’d escaped that hell hole. Of course, the price of that had been the alcohol and the anger in his later adolescence. The eating issues and the obsessive exercise. Those had been the harder things to deal with.

“Yeah.” He replied, before he had chance to change his mind. Besides, he had a feeling that if he rejected Bones, he might not get so many more chances. The man had been unfathomably patient, and last night had been…. A mess. Jim had really screwed up.

“I was dying, again.” He confessed. The statement still felt weird to him, abstract in a way he couldn’t explain. He remembered dying very clearly. Remembered the agony and the fear and the slowness of it all. But, most of the time now, the sensations were a distant memory. As if he hadn’t really died, but just dreamt up some torture from another life. “I was on Tarsus, though. There was no Spock- just the kids- and I couldn’t get through the glass to them.”

Bones didn’t say anything, but tentatively slid his hand onto the bed beside Jim. It was an offer of reconciliation, Jim figured, and he took it. Their fingers locked together easily, their hands greeted each other like home. Jim wanted to hold that hand in public. Go for a stroll, with his boyfriend, and fuck- if that was all he could dream up, now, then he was _fine_ with it. Stars, planets, ships – they paled in comparison to having Bones by his side.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Bones. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m frustrated- and I just want to be fit again. Fuck- I want you to look at me like you used to.”

“Yeah kid, I know.” Bones squeezed his hand tighter, and took a deep breath. “I’m scared.” Leonard admitted, finally. Though it wasn’t anything Jim hadn’t worked out already, it still felt like a breakthrough. It all came back to what Spock had told Leonard, days and days ago- that Leonard needed to talk just as much as Jim did. Now, it seemed, was the opportune moment. “I’m scared every time I walk into this room, that you won’t be there.” His spare hand worked up to Jim’s chest, his palm flat against his pyjama top. “I’m scared every time your chest falls that it won’t rise again. I can’t see you in another body bag, Jim, I can’t do it.”

Dead. Jim had been dead. Not just in pain, not just out of it for a little while. He’d died. He’d known it logically, but no-one had told him he’d actually been in a body bag. No-one had told him that Leonard had seen him like that.

“Shit… Bones, I had no idea.”

“No, I didn’t want you to.” His boyfriend shrugged. “You were right, last night. About kissing you. I couldn’t at first, Jim. I was so scared you’d just be cold.” Leonard looked so unbearably guilty, as if it was actually something Jim would blame him for. As if Jim couldn’t understand how much it would fuck him up, to have been delivered his dead boyfriend in a bag. Not close to death, not in a coma, but genuinely dead.

“And now?”

“Now? Jesus, Jim, every time I touch you I think I won’t be able to let go.” He laughed shakily, and Jim inhaled, letting his chest expand and knowing Bones’ outstretched hand could feel his heart beat and his lungs, taking in as much air as they could. “You’re doing so good, kid. We’re all so proud of you. I meant what I said, alright, you can shout and scream at me. Ignore my advice. Throw things. Anything you want. You won’t scare me away, Jim. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I saw you, and I’ll be damned if Khan ruins that for me.”

“You and me, right? Partners.” Jim affirmed, and then took a deep breath. “You know, I haven’t decided if I want to take the Enterprise back. If they even offer it to me. Is that- do you mind?” He was so desperate for confirmation, so desperate to know that they’d stay together no matter what, it made his worry about everything else seem redundant. Getting stronger, leaving hospital, seeing the ship and their friends… that was all secondary. Firstly, and always most importantly, there was him and Bones.

“No, Kid.” Bones smiled then, and he didn’t look so scared anymore. “I think we can handle that later, together, when the ship’s even space-worthy.” He laughed lightly, his hand on Jim’s chest suddenly curling- his fingers tangling into his top. “Don’t doubt that I’m with you, Jim. No matter where.” His head swooped down then, and Jim sucked in a short breath before their lips met and everything else melted away.

There. That was what he’d been waiting for. The sweet, familiar comfort of Leonard’s lips against his. To convince him everything would go back to normal, eventually. That Leonard still wanted him, and loved him, and the rest of the stuff was inconsequential. It was tender and recognisable in a mass of uncertainty, and for the first time in weeks Jim felt like something other than a patient. Leonard pulled back reluctantly, laughing in dismay at Jim wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Not if you paid me, Kid. If Pike walks in on us one more time I might cry.” Bones told him firmly, but his laughter was worth it. In Jim’s defence, Pike hadn’t walked in on them since the Academy- and it was a complete accident, because Jim had forgotten he’d even invited the man over for dinner. Really, Bones had been the one to distract him with his ridiculously perfect hair and his stupidly gorgeous smile- it was all his fault.

“So, voyeurism is off the kink list.” Jim teased, his grin tugging at his cheeks almost painfully. He found his face smothered fairly quickly though, as Leonard tugged him closely for a hug.

“You know I’d never use my love for you as a bargaining chip, right? _I’m_ not the reason I want you to get better.” Bones said quietly against his cheek, the tone of their conversation shifting once more to solemn and crucial. Jim nodded fervently. Of course he knew that. To suggest otherwise had been cruel- born purely out of his embarrassment and infuriation. It hadn’t been remotely true. “Good. But I can definitely say that the day you leave this hospital, I’m going to pin you to the first bed I see and not let you up for hours.”

Jim laughed softly, dragging Leonard further onto the bed beside him. “I’m sick of beds. Try a wall, then I’ll be impressed.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Captain, you look markedly improved upon my last visit.” Spock said, upon entering Jim’s suite. He was dressed in his uniform, neat and pristine, with a chess set tucked under one arm. If Jim didn’t know any better, he’d say he noted pleasant surprise in his First Officer’s tone. He didn’t voice that particular observation, though, because Spock would only find it annoying. Leonard was at work, and Jim was so desperately deprived of company that he had no immediate plans to drive away his few visitors yet.

“Thanks Spock.” He chirped. “The view’s great from over here.” For over a week now, he’d been making the journey from his bed to a chair by his window almost unaided. The change in scenery, if only across his room, _had_ helped. It stopped him sleeping quite so much, and anything was better than spending more time than necessary in his bed. He was sick of the stupid thing. Besides, the window was nice. He had a great view, really, and occasionally the sky was clearer and he could see the stars. He loved those evenings the most- when Leonard got off work and joined him, tugged Jim onto his lap and kissed him lazily in the cool breeze.

“Come- join me. I doubt you’ve seen the sunlight recently either.” He was referring, quite obnoxiously, to the fact that Spock had barely visited him in the last few weeks. Not when he was awake, anyway. Pike had been equally as busy- and that was to be expected. A corrupt influence within a multi-planet impacting organisation was a difficult thing to correct quickly. Jim missed them, selfishly- but a part of him also wished he could help, already. He’d been potentially the most screwed over by Marcus, after all. He should have had a say in repairing the damage. Then again, much of the damage was his own fault. He was half the reason Spock and Pike were stuck in meetings all hours of the day.

“I am not oblivious to your meaning, Captain.” Spock replied dryly, pulling another chair up and sitting opposite him. He deposited his chess board onto the table between them. “But I assure you, Lieutenant Uhura and Admiral Pike had been most observant regarding my own health.”

“Good.” Jim sighed. He was glad they were looking out for Spock, because he hadn’t. Fucking hell, he’d been told about how very ‘emotionally compromised’ Spock had been after he died, but he could sort of tell. Beyond the pristine and neat, up-close, Spock looked tired _._ He was probably working himself too hard, regardless of how much Nyota or Chris made sure he ate and took hours off for sleep.

“May I enquire after the location of Doctor McCoy?” Spock asked, almost too neutrally. Enough to make Jim suspicious.

“Well, he isn’t here.” He said, gesturing to his room. “So he’s either in his office or in surgery. He does tell me, but I gave up on trying to learn his schedule way back in first year. You would not believe how unpredictable his profession is. Makes me miss the Enterprise.” He laughed sharply, and then fell to an abrupt silence. On the Enterprise, he could always find Leonard. It was in his top five favourite things about being Captain- not that he had a list. It would be strange to suddenly be domestic. The whole apartment and jobs thing. Leonard would spend a lot of time at work, and Jim would probably work nine to five at Starfleet. They might go hiking on weekends, or just spend hours lazing in bed. It was both the dream, and strangely dispiriting. He didn’t care to really analyse why, because it didn’t matter. Leonard mattered, and Leonard deserved some stability for a while. Stability and safety were, unfortunately, the few things the Enterprise couldn’t provide. That was half the reason Jim loved it in the first place.

“How is the ship?” Jim asked, despite himself, too curious to remain in the dark.

“Progress is to schedule, Captain. Commander Scott has been finalising his plans for the engine, should you wish to contact him.” The hint was so obvious it was ridiculous, and Jim couldn’t help but laugh at the utter seriousness of Spock’s face. The half-Vulcan was hilarious, and not many people saw it.

“Yeah, about that,” Jim said, leaning forward. “I can start approving plans and stuff. And I know Scotty can handle Starfleet, for a while, if you need a break.”

Spock stiffened, ever so slightly. “Captain, I assure you I am adequately prepared to cope with my assigned workload. I would not wish to burden you with unwarranted pressure-“

“Spock- look at me.” Jim gestured blandly at himself. “I’m awake, I’m breathing, I’m out of bed.” Oh, he could positively hear Spock’s Vulcan mind calling him illogical for stating the obvious- and it was delightful. “I’m doing good, and I refuse to let you waste away working yourself too hard because you’re worried I might pop my clogs again. I promise- go to New Vulcan, spend some time with your dad. I’ll work things out with Scotty, I’ll follow _all_ of Phil’s instructions, and I’ll still be sat here, alive, when you get back.”

Spock looked at him intently. “I see.” His hands clasped in his lap. For a moment, Jim worried he’d been too human with his XO – too blasé about his death, which had affected Spock so adversely. “May I enquire, Captain, if you’ve given any thought to your position on the Enterprise in the event of her completion?”

 _Shit._ Jim swallowed, but his throat felt tight again. “I don’t know, Spock.” Not now that he’d finally gotten Leonard back, properly - He refused to drag Leonard back out there, just for him to be miserable. Jim was trying to consider his own mental health and how that might be impacting on his decision making – but he was still more inclined to stay planet side for a while. “I’m keeping an open mind,” He conceded to Spock. “Just until I get my head in order.”

“If I may, Jim, it might interest you to know that, while I do not take my loyalty to the Enterprise lightly, I have no desire to Captain a vessel of my own. I feel those serving aboard would suffer a temporary decline in morale should you not return to command.”

“Only temporary? That’s good to know.” Jim grinned. It was that or think too hard about what Spock was trying to tell him, and he still wasn’t ready. Hell, if there was anyone with the power to convince him to re-join the Enterprise, it was probably Spock. They did make an effective team, after all. It would be gut-wrenching to see Spock and the others leave without him, especially knowing they’d rather he be there. But it was more complicated than just _want_. Jim had to think about what he needed- and what Leonard needed. While it seemed unlikely the Starfleet would allow another incident like Khan to slip through their fingers, it didn’t stop the fear beneath his skin. Exploration, aliens, diplomacy, star-mapping – he could take all of that. He just couldn’t do all of _this_ again; recovering from death was a long and difficult process, and it had drained him more than he could express.

“I have spent enough time amongst humans to recognise when humour is being utilised as a defence mechanism, Captain.” Spock looked vaguely uncomfortable still, anyway.

“I’m sure you have.” Jim tapped his hand against his leg, awkwardly. “Spock, I promise, when I’ve decided what I’m doing- you’ll be the first to know. Just, don’t expect it any time soon. Even if I _had_ made up my mind, I don’t think Bones or Chris will let me submit anything officially until the last possible moment.”

“That is a most acceptable plan, Captain. It accommodates for the probability that you may wish to change your mind, particularly during a time of anxiety.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Jim laughed, nervously. He had to do as Pike had told him- the work. The stuff that mattered. Because whether he was sat in the Captain’s chair or not come the end of their year grounded, the Enterprise still deserved the best, from the people who knew her best. Jim had spent so many years determined to get her- he liked to think he knew her inside out, as well as Scotty himself did. So he’d do his duty to his ship, regardless of everything else. “So, what d’you say? You think you’ll take a break, now?”

Spock’s face set neutrally. Mostly. He still had difficulty, but Jim also liked to think he knew his XO pretty well by now too. And Spock hadn’t exactly been successfully repressing his worry where Jim was concerned. It was kind of sweet, actually, considering the rocky start to their working relationship. But that was all fine, now. Actually, it was almost a waste to throw away all that hard work along with his Captaincy.

“I will consider it, Captain. I will converse with Mister Scott and Doctor Boyce regarding your proposition, and then make the appropriate arrangements.”

“Good.” Jim whistled sharply. Little victories, after all. He gestured to the board Spock had brought with him, feeling even more enthusiastic than he had done earlier, bathing in the light and air of the open window. “Shall we play?”

Spock nodded, and began to set up the board.

 

 

 

Leonard sat up straight at the gentle knock against his office door, and his back and neck protested for it almost instantly. The pain was frankly ridiculous and disheartening- he wasn’t that old yet, he should have been perfectly able to have a quick nap at his desk and not suffer any consequences. Yet, the pain lingered, and he grunted as he stretched.

“Come in.” He barked at the door, glaring already as if that was the sole cause of all of his problems. When Spock entered, he felt mostly vindicated in his glare.

“You were asleep.” Spock said, simply, closing the door behind him and approaching Leonard’s desk.

“I was reading Boyce’s weekly report on Jim’s progression. He’s a great Doctor but his writing is laborious. Must have drifted off.” Why he had to excuse himself to Spock, of all people, was beyond him. Spock had been just as bad, at the start. Even now. He was in meetings at Starfleet all hours of the day, visiting the hospital early in the morning prior to work- and Leonard was damn certain that the idiot had started a research project based off some of his findings on the Enterprise as well. He’d heard Spock and Pike discussing his research proposal and, interesting though the research sounded, it was still too much for one man - Vulcan or not.

“Have you considered, Doctor, that you might be asking too much of yourself?”

The hypocrisy was staggering, and if Leonard had any energy left in him at all he would have burst out laughing. Or shouting. It had been a while since he’d had a good go at Spock. His heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Maybe, if Jim decided they’d go back to the Enterprise, maybe he’d find his groove again and they’d go back exactly how they were. But right now, Spock had saved Jim’s life, and however infuriating the Vulcan was, Leonard couldn’t find it in him to cause a fight.

“I’m a Doctor, Spock. I’m doing what I know and what can help people. It’s never enough, let alone too much.” Even in Jim’s case. Brought back to life, the greatest gift by any standards, and yet his boyfriend still had so much work to do. Enough, and not enough. He swallowed uncomfortably – this was _not_ the day to have a heart to heart with Spock. “Have you taken a look at your own schedule recently?” He snapped back, almost as an afterthought.

“Certainly. The Captain has just expressed his desire to take some of his duties back, so that I may find time to return to Vulcan and meet with a healer.” Spock took a seat, uninvited, looking remarkably pensive. Leonard couldn’t usually read him for toffee, not like Jim could. He wasn’t sure if he’d just become more attuned to Spock’s well-guarded emotions after all the time they’d spent together waiting for Jim’s recovery, or if Spock’s guards were just _down_. He did need to see a healer, after all, and he hadn’t been quite the same repressed bastard since Khan.

“I choose to follow Vulcan ways, Doctor, despite my human heritage. I choose logic above emotion because I perceive it to be the most appropriate path to unite my two halves.” Spock said factually. “By returning to Vulcan, I will strengthen my walls and find inner equilibrium once again. This will not detract from the lessons I have taken from this ordeal, but enable me to understand and integrate them.” His dark eyes focused sharply on Leonard, then. “Can you say the same of this hospital?”

“What else would I do? This way, I’m close to Jim and I’m doing good work. God knows Starfleet needs all the Doctors it can get right now.”

“Jim no longer requires round the clock care, Doctor. You must recognise that your continued presence at your place of work has been detrimental to your overall health. Were you to step back and process your own reaction to events that have transpired, you might find yourself in a better position to aid the Captain upon his eventual release.”

The last time they’d really gotten into this, before Leonard had broken down on Jim and cried, Spock had asked him if he was concerned about his _capacity to withstand emotional turmoil,_ and Leonard had been furious. His own capacity was sure, untested to this extent, but certainly strong enough to withhold one near permanent death from his boyfriend. Now, it seemed, Spock was the one concerned for Leonard’s capacity. Without good cause, really. Leonard was fine. His shifts at the hospital were good- distracting and necessary. It made a good change to feel useful, anyway. There wasn’t so much he could do for Jim now but hold his hand and offer him encouragement.

“Spock…” He sighed heavily, avoiding eye contact with the Vulcan. “Thanks for your concern, really, but I’m fine. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Jim. This is nothing in comparison.”

Spock looked wonderfully young for a moment, his eyes inexplicably more human. “I see.” He paused. “Am I to understand, then, that if Jim decides not to return to the Enterprise, you will follow his example?”

“Well, yeah.” Although in saying it, he felt like he was letting Spock down somehow. Damn him, they weren’t even friends. Not really. By necessity, if at all. For Jim’s sake. He was not allowed to feel guilty for deciding to do what was best for himself and Jim. But somehow, in that instant, Spock seemed to be representing the entire crew. In his poorly concealed disappointment, Leonard could see Pavel and Hikaru and Nyota – all stepping onto that Bridge without Jim there to command them.

Jim, Leonard thought, belonged in the sun. He’d always known that. In fact, that first hiking trip after their first year had been the time he realised he was completely, irrevocably in love with Jim Kirk – walking behind him, seeing the golden shine of his hair. He adored those moments that the sun hit Jim’s face and made his eyes hopelessly bright. But the stars… Jim adored them more, and wasn’t that the whole reason Leonard had convinced himself up to space in the first place. Jim, lit by starlight, was a force to be reckoned with. The whole point of night was that the sun always rose again, and didn’t that make it all worth it?

The choice, Leonard realised, had never really been a choice at all. He just had to wait for Jim to reach the same conclusion.

“I’m not making any promises, Spock, but I think we both know Jim’s gonna end up back on that Bridge. Just, look after yourself for a bit and let me do the same. Everything will work out in the end.”

“I appreciate your optimism, Leonard.” Spock said, and Leonard _swore_ there was mischief in the Vulcan’s eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

“Did I just see Admiral Christopher Pike walk down the corridor with ‘kick me’ written on a post-it note on his back?” Leonard asked, pushing his way into Jim’s room and bringing with him an assortment of pastries and coffee from a bakery down the road from medical. The lengths he went to for James Kirk were, frankly, ridiculous. “Oh.” He blinked, seeing the guest in their room. “Hello Nyota.”

“Hey Len.” Nyota flashed him a smile, bringing her cards in close to her chest. She and Jim were playing by the window- a spot which had quickly become Jim’s favourite. A dozen times now, Leonard had joined him of an evening and found his boyfriend had dosed off where he sat instead of making the return trip to bed. “And yeah, probably. I think the Captain’s regressed to his first year self again.” She shot Jim a defiant glare, like a big sister telling on her pain of a younger brother. If Jim’s boyish grin was anything to go by, she was entirely justified in her attitude.

“Oh great. Chris is going to love that when he finds out.” Leonard approached, depositing their lunch onto the table between them. Frankly, though, Chris would probably be more glad that Jim was getting back to his old self than he’d admit to anyone but Leonard and Phil. Hopefully he would actually yell at Jim a bit, just so Leonard could watch and laugh. “You’re an idiot, Jimmy.”

“Ever the charmer.” Jim chirped in reply. “Hello baby, how are you today?” He twisted his head, and Leonard met his lips in a kiss that lasted probably a touch too long for Nyota to be entirely comfortable.

“Better, now.” He pulled back, mostly reluctantly. “I brought food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving.” Jim replied eagerly, and even turning to pull up a chair, Leonard saw him tense suddenly. It was like stepping on a trip wire. The tone shifted instantly, and Leonard turned back to his boyfriend the second he could- stepping between him and Nyota’s line of vision.

“It’s okay, Jim.”

“No- it’s not! I didn’t mean that, Bones –” His eyes were wide, alert, and Leonard had to wonder what he was even seeing at that moment. The hospital suite. His concerned expression- or Tarsus, and starving children begging Jim to head back out into danger and bring them back just one more morsel to share between them.

“It’s okay, darlin’. We know what you meant. It’s good- I’m glad you have an appetite. You deserve to eat, and we’re going to share this meal together, and then you and I are going to go to PT, remember?”

“Yeah.” But the reply was too shaky, too blank. Like Jim had gone, already, lost to his memories and his crushing guilt. Leonard hated it when this happened- felt so utterly useless. It had been much worse early on in the Academy. Jim had never eaten in the mess, not with other people, terrified he was somehow taking away from others. It had taken Leonard going to Pike, behind Jim’s back, to even remotely begin to understand what the hell was going on. How Pike wanted him to approach the subject. With time and dedication, things had gotten easier. This – flashbacks like this – just didn’t happen anymore. If they hadn’t early on in Jim’s recovery, Leonard couldn’t fathom why they would start now. Maybe he was just in denial. That was more than likely. Jim was prone to keeping things to himself unless there was someone in the immediate vicinity to witness his pain.

“Jim, look at me. I’m right here.” He carded his fingers through Jim’s hair, until the younger man’s eyes finally focused, and he nodded this time – a little more certainty in his action.

“Good.” Leonard stepped back, glancing at Nyota momentarily. The almost forgotten third in the room looked calm and collected, meeting Leonard’s gaze quietly. To be fair, she’d handled this much better than finding Jim on the floor the first time she’d visited. Then, she’d stared and rambled. Now, she was a force of soothing confidence, as if she didn’t expect the situation to deteriorate at all. It was both baffling and ego-boosting.

One hand holding Jim’s tightly, Leonard got Nyota to help him unpack the bags he’d brought with him. Coffee, bagels, pastries- they laid them all out on the table. Nyota went first, unprompted, picking out a croissant and jam and setting to fixing it precisely how she liked it. Leonard watched Jim throughout, all too aware that the achieved calm might disintegrate at any moment and spiral out of control once more. But Nyota seemed to have helped by preparing her own lunch so naturally; Jim seemed appeased by the action, and then he turned to Leonard expecting the same. He didn’t feel remotely hungry anymore, but he reached for the closest pastry to him and took a bite anyway. Only then did Jim nod once again, resolutely, and shuffle forward to inspect the choices that remained on the table.

Leonard’s throat felt clogged, and he felt sick to his stomach, but he washed the food down with hot coffee and reminded himself that his own suffering was nothing in comparison to Jim’s. Jim was unfathomably strong, and it was his great purpose in life to help out wherever he could. It paid off, in any case, because Jim reached for a croissant and pulled away a strip of the pastry.

“So, I heard from Spock this morning- he got to New Vulcan safely.” Nyota said, suddenly, bringing a cheery life back into the tense silence of the suite. She paused to take a drink, and then continued as if there had never been an incident with Jim at all. “I can tell he’s still worried to be away for too long, but once they get down to meditating and healing, he’s going to be fine.”

“Good. I knew he’d spoken a bit to M’Benga, but there’s only so much a human can do for Vulcan mind voodoo.” Leonard grumbled, loathe though he was to admit he’d been worried about the git too. He took another bite, then dared to glance at Jim. His boyfriend was chewing slowly, carefully, thank god. No stuffing his face, terrified the food wouldn’t last. It probably helped that Leonard had bought ridiculous amounts of buttery terribleness, and Jim could see most of it remained still. Or, maybe, he’d moved past the flashback or trigger or _whatever_ the damned thing was, enough to fall back on his usual methods of coping.

“It isn’t mind voodoo, Leonard.” Nyota reprimanded him, their eyes meeting briefly as they both looked away from Jim. Pale, still, but focused. “Admit it, you’re fascinated by the whole thing.” She teased, and Leonard barked out a laugh.

“Like hell, I’m _fascinated.”_ He handed his coffee cup to Jim, and to his inner delight Jim took it and sipped it. He’d not really been drinking coffee at all since waking up- Hell, Leonard didn’t want him drinking it when he was _well_ given his general tendency to over-stress and forgo eating – but it had been unnecessary while he was still so inactive. The taste seemed to bring Jim back a little more, though, and his lowered head raised a fraction.

“You’re a bitter man, Doctor McCoy.” Nyota grinned at him, and suddenly it was like old times again. “A bitter, bitter man.”

“You just don’t get to see his warm, cuddly side.” Jim finally spoke, his voice stronger than Leonard would have anticipated- even teasing. While Leonard had absolutely no intentions of discussing his _warm cuddly side,_ he was at least glad that Jim had said _something._ It was so easy in times like this, for Jim to simply roll over and sleep the ordeal away.

“Are we talking about the same Leonard McCoy?” Nyota asked. “This high? Dark hair? Nightmare of any patient aboard the Enterprise?” God, Leonard was going to get his revenge if they ever got back to the Enterprise. He’d make both of them go through physicals like they didn’t know Physicals could be- and Leonard would _delight_ in it.

“Only the idiots who can’t pay attention to safety regs-” Leonard tried to correct, but found himself cut off again by Jim’s laughter.

“Yeah, that’s the guy.” Jim told them, nodding happily. “Trust me, he’s adorable in the privacy of our quarters. Like a tired puppy.”

“Listen, dipshit, if anyone’s a puppy here- it’s you!”

“Aw, Leonard, I didn’t know you could be so cute.” Nyota continued, as if Leonard hadn’t protested at all. “Hey- do you have any pictures of him sleeping?”

“Oh boy, you have no idea.” Jim reached for his PADD. His laughter was infectious, apparently, but only to Nyota. Leonard was being ignored quite steadfastly now, and he couldn’t really see much way to salvage the situation. If he told Jim to put his PADD back down and eat, Jim would strop and Nyota would tease him more. If he let it happen, Nyota would have a lifetime’s worth of ammunition to tease him with too. It was a lose-lose situation. Only Jim was laughing again, and Leonard couldn’t actually complain about that.

“You-” He pointed a finger at Jim, holding out his other hand to get his coffee back. “If you show her a single picture of my butt, I’ll divorce you.”

Jim passed his drink back over, beaming from ear to ear. “We’re not married yet, gorgeous.” He argued lightly, and Leonard felt extraordinarily buzzed from inside out to hear the _yet._ It was quite possibly the best thing he’d ever heard- right behind Jim’s newly-started heartbeat.

“Aren’t we?” Leonard asked innocently, smirking behind his coffee cup. He took a swig, enjoying the sparkling mischief in Jim’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you’ve got nothing to lose. Enjoy Nyota.” He winked at their communications officer, whose expression had shifted from one of amusement to genuine concern that Jim was about to start a slideshow of pictures she definitely, 100 percent, had no interest in seeing. The look on her face was priceless. “I’m going to check in with Phil. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Okay.” Jim replied, distracted now by his PADD. Leonard slipped away quietly, a smile still tugging at his cheeks.

In comparison to the room, the corridor was quiet and cool. Despite his grin, the pressure of Jim’s almost-incident still weighed him down. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply for a few breaths before the door opened again and Nyota emerged, what remained of his pastry and coffee in her hands. Her own smile slipped away instantly too, and Leonard was left beyond impressed with her acting. She’d managed to make Jim laugh without feeling remotely cheery herself, and it was borderline miraculous in Leonard’s opinion.

“Oh- good, you’re still here. Jim wanted you to have these.” She said, pointedly, and Leonard took them, imagining Jim’s sudden worry when he realised Leonard had left without taking his shares. It was a rookie error, but at least Jim had allowed Nyota to leave in his place. That said something of his self-control.

“Do you know?” He asked, quietly, before Nyota could turn to re-enter the suite. She turned back to him, and the look on her face was answer enough. Not quite guilty, but an underlying awareness that she knew something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Sort of.” She admitted, awkwardly. “Lieutenant Riley was on Tarsus too. He was just a little kid.” Leonard _had_ known that vaguely. It was his duty as Chief Medical Officer, after all. And Tarsus survivors were in Starfleet’s interest to protect. But at some point, it must have slipped off his radar. He wasn’t the counsellor, after all and Riley had never been all that much trouble. Not like Jim. If Riley had told people about his own experience, that was one thing, but if he’d been gossiping about Jim…

“Has he told-?”

“No- no! He… well, we got him a little tipsy at the Christmas gathering. It was near the anniversary- obviously- and he was upset. He didn’t really say, exactly, but he mentioned a few things and we put two and two together. Just me, Chekov and Sulu. We were all pretty shook up about it, but none of us have told anyone else.”

“Good. Thanks, Nyota. And thank you for just then- you were great.”

“Yeah well, I try.” She shot him a confident-ish smile. “It’s easier, with Jim, because he knows he has a problem.” She chewed her lower lips in thought, and Leonard shifted his weight between his legs awkwardly. “You’re a great Doctor, Len, but have you considered doing the same as Spock?”

“Leaving the planet? No, actually. I’m firmly against the idea of leaving earth right now- funnily enough.”

“Leonard.” Nyota placed a hand on her hip, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “You went from caring for Jim 24/7 to working in the hospital and then spending the rest of your time with Jim. No offence, but you look like crap. You need to take leave.”

“Dammit, have you been talking to Spock!?” The idea made him feel distinctly sick. What the hell would he do with nothing to distract him? He’d have to spend more time at home, alone, for one. It would be completely miserable, and he’d be even more lonely without Jim there to annoy him all the time. Well, he could finally go through his reports from their pre-Khan trips. Maybe teach a few classes at the Academy – Pike, like Spock and Nyota, hadn’t exactly been subtle about them. He’d mentioned them more than once since Jim had started to improve. So now, maybe leave wasn’t the worst idea, but it would take him away from the hospital and Jim.

“Not really, why?” Nyota frowned, then shook her head slightly in dismissal of her own question. “I know you want to be close to Jim, but it might be doing both of you more harm than good. If you carry on like this, you’re going to drive yourself mad. Or at least start to resent Jim.”

“I would never, Nyota.” He let out a shaky breath. Dammit, he’d put up with Jim’s lunacy since first year. His bouts of nightmares and insomnia, his anxieties and adrenaline seeking- his utter disregard for his own safety. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone, Ny. If I am, I’ll start overthinking all of this and I’m scared of the conclusion I’m going to come to.”

He suddenly found himself pulled in tightly to the shorter woman- and he wasn’t entirely sure how her arms managed to reach around him like that. He gave himself to the hug anyway. It almost felt like being relieved from duty- that overwhelming sense of relief that he wasn’t responsible any longer, it was a wave that knocked him down and brought fresh tears to his eyes.

“You saved his life, Leonard. And you’re not alone. Not a chance.” Nyota told him firmly. “There just might be calmer, less taxing things to occupy your time with. I know I’m speaking for all the bridge crew when I say we want to help. We’ll do shifts to be with Jim or you, if you want that. But I really think you should consider getting out of the hospital. It’s been months.”

Leonard pulled away from the hug, wiping his tears away with his palms. “I’ll think about it, Nyota. I’ll… I’ll talk to Jim about it.”

Nyota’s smile was positively thrilled. “I’m glad. I think that’s the right thing to do.” She rolled her shoulders back, as if bracing for a hit. “Well, I’d better head back in and pretend to find your arse attractive.”

“Hey- I’m no Christine, but give a guy a bone.”

“Jim can do that, thank you very much.” Nyota replied, grinning wickedly before she swept back into Jim’s suite. Leonard was left smiling again and, certain Jim was in good hands, he took off down the corridor to find Boyce.


	10. Chapter 10

Jim signed off on his last form of the day with an astounding awareness that he was absolutely exhausted. He could feel it in his every cell; an unmistakable heaviness that could so very easily lend itself to sleep- and yet his mind was active, buzzing with ideas about the Enterprise. Scotty was a genius, really, and Jim itched to go to the shipyard and get his own hands on his ship. His ambivalence was almost staggering. The desire to stay involved, to learn, to work and thrive, was equally as addicting as it ever had been. It was the fear that debilitated his efforts. Hell, even _thinking_ about seeing either the crew or the Enterprise made his heart race- so that Boyce came in to check on him, or Bones looked up from his PADD to make sure he was okay. On particularly bad days, it could drive Jim spiralling downwards into panic or flashbacks. He was only lucky that bad days were becoming much rarer.

“Ow.” He dropped his PADD, looking up at his suite. Bones sat on his bed, by his feet, while Pike was in his chair beside his bed. Both men were silent, and had been working for as long as Jim had been after he’d finished his morning’s PT session. Unfortunately for them, their schedules demanded a lot more of their time be dedicated to work- while Jim still had Scotty to lean on, for even the most basic of tasks. “Ow.” He repeated, drawing the word out slowly.

“Son, you’re giving me a headache.” Pike said, dropping his PADD down for a moment to look up at Jim, exasperated. “Either go to sleep, or stop complaining.”

“ _Sleep_. That’s your solution to everything.” Jim groaned. He was sick of his bed. Sick of sleeping. He’d leapt at the chance to up his physical therapy, and took his time with every single report that required his attention – but sleep, he was done with. Not that Pike or Bones seemed to care. A few days before, he’d exclaimed that he could sleep when he was dead, and both of them had stormed out of his room without a word. He’d learned, then, to think twice before letting the ‘d’ word out so casually.

So despite all his natural urges to be the embodiment of melodramatic, and dramatically declare that his muscles hurt so much he felt like he was dying, he kept his mouth shut. It was probably too much of an exaggeration, anyway. Having already died once, Jim knew with certainty it didn’t feel the same. That being said, he did _ache._ He ached, and his friends were displaying a blatant lack of sympathy – an absence of emotion that would make even Spock proud.

“Sleep is a pretty damn good solution, Jimmy.” Bones agreed lazily, and it was _insulting_.

“No, Bones, it’s not.” Jim snapped back, folding his arms and then instantly regretting it. He felt like Spock had just battered him in the gym, as he was prone to doing, and god, he was tired. Really, deeply tired. He’d be quite happy to let himself drift off if it weren’t so early in the day. He was still working to find something that vaguely resembled a decent sleep pattern. If he let himself drift off now, he’d screw himself over for days. And still, no-one cared. He was bored. Bored and in pain, and his friends were _evil._

 “Would someone look up at me for one minute?!”

“Alright, infant, I’m going to give you a choice.” Leonard said, with a tone that, annoyingly, wouldn’t have gone amiss on a misbehaving child. As irritated as Jim was that the tone was supposed to work on him, he was more annoyed that it actually _had_ worked. A sense of foreboding washed over him, and Jim momentarily worried that he’d just royally screwed himself over by bothering to complain.

“A choice?”

“Yes.” Leonard reached for the hypo at his hip, and held it up innocently. “You can have a nap, and then have a visitor come, and then _tomorrow_ I’ll take you out for breakfast-”

Jim didn’t trust his initial reaction. It was one of elation, and therefore there was absolutely nothing to suggest it was reliable. A visitor was a threat in his eyes, no matter the prospect of getting out the hospital for a bit. A visitor didn’t have to be kind. It didn’t have to be Nyota or – well, Spock wasn’t even on the planet so he was instantly ruled out. A visitor could be someone that terrified him so fundamentally that the very though made him nauseas.

“Who?” He managed to get his lips to form the word, but it came out more fragile than he was entirely happy with.

“See, I said he wouldn’t be distracted by the food.” Bones said to Pike, placing his things to one side and sitting up straighter to take Jim’s hand. “He’s gone green already, and he doesn’t even know.”

“Scotty, Jim.” Pike finally answered his question, taking pity on him.

Just the name sent absolute dread pounding through his heart once again. Jim liked to think he’d gotten better at hiding it; he didn’t finch or suddenly tense up. Especially considering the last time Bones had raised the subject of their Chief Engineer, he’d straight up vomited. But his heart still sped up in fear, and the almost unnoticeable beeping of his bio-bracelet now raced along with it, alerting all of them to his panic. Damn both of them.

“It’s your choice, Jimmy.” Bones squeezed his hand. “But you can’t avoid him forever, and he thinks you hate him.”

“W-why would I hate him?” Scotty was his friend. His good friend. He swallowed, his mind trying to articulate the fear that had plagued him since he first started being conscious long enough to think about the events that had transpired prior to his death. “He should hate me.” He confessed, biting the inside of his cheek hard.

“Why would he…”

“No-one hates you, Son.” Chris had moved closer, at some point, and Jim dragged his eyes to meet the older man’s. He seemed so sincere- but he hadn’t been there. Jim had- god, cast Scotty aside for revenge, and then knocked him out for god’s sake. He couldn’t think of a single valid reason why Scotty wouldn’t instantly punch him in the face when he saw him again. “Not a single person on that ship hates you- least of all Lieutenant Commander Scott.”

“You saved all our lives, remember?” Bones interjected softly. “Jimmy, there’s not a soul on that ship who wouldn’t do the same for you.”

That left him feeling vaguely empty, though, because Jim didn’t want anyone to die for him. Enough had died already, and his therapist could tell him they were aware of the danger when they joined Starfleet, but it would never remove the guilt.

“You said I had a choice.”  

“You can do this for us today, Jim, or you can do it another day.” Chris was almost smirking, and Jim had a sudden urge to throw himself out of his hospital window. Despair was a funny thing to feel- Jim had avoided it all his life, no matter how bad things got. It was peculiar that now, in the face of seeing one man, he’d suddenly succumb. He also remembered his friends were evil.

“Not much of a choice.”

“You’ve got months.” Pike shrugged, and it occurred to Jim that Chris probably assumed he’d return to the Enterprise- that he’d _need_ to see Scotty again. “But you will do it, eventually.”

The moment Jim took to think felt like a little eternity. He _wanted_ to leave the hospital, and he could stay awake and active long enough now that it wouldn’t be a complete exhausting nightmare to leave go outside. Hell, he’d been begging to go for even a walk around the block for _weeks_ – He’d bargained with the use a support, uncaring if it took him a whole hour to make the journey. He just wanted out for a while. Unfortunately for him, even if Phil would consider the possibility as Jim’s Doctor, he made it clear he was more than happy to comply with Pike and Bones’ wishes, for the time being. Of course he was. Boyce was Pike’s damn best friend, and he trusted Bones’ professional opinion on his long term patient. Jim had no chance- not unless he did something to win them over. It just sucked that their current aim was for him to receive Scotty. Hell, he’d rather have the full admiralty over for afternoon tea than see Scotty. He’d had nightmares precisely about that.

Jim swallowed, nodding before he could think hard enough to talk himself out of it. “Yeah.” He said, thickly. “Deal.”

He could have sworn when he saw Pike and Bones look at each other, bordering on smug, as if they _knew_ he’d agree. _Evil._ Heart still pounding, he settled down into his pillows and closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t think he’d sleep, but it was worth spending some time on calming himself a touch. As if that was enough to make this any easier.

 

 

 

_Jim was dying. He was burning, oxygen deprived, and lonely- so very lonely. He wanted someone to hold his hand. Bones should have been there to hold his hand, when he died. Whether that was on some beautiful planet, after some tragic incident – or in medbay, on a bio-bed, bleeding out too quickly and giving in to that dizzy bliss of nothing. Or even, of old age, back on earth and staring into the eyes of an old country Doctor._

_But, Bones was there. On the other side of the glass. With Spock and Scotty and Uhura- staring at him, his gaze hard and angry. His jaw set, unforgiving. The glass shattered, the ship seemed a fireworks display of explosions. Jim still couldn’t breathe, but in an entirely new way. The smoke was too thick, and he felt like he was choking on blood. He climbed through rubble and glass, calling out to no avail. Then Bones was there, on the floor before him, and he’d gone first. No old age. No Jim, leaving him behind. Just a quick nothing, and Bones was on the floor and yet not there anymore. Just another body in the rubble, and Jim was screaming and screaming and –_

“JIM!”

He was being dragged out of bed, his limbs heavy and useless but supported quite confidently by Bones and Boyce. He blinked through tears and nausea, and his throat ached, but reality dawned on him relatively quickly. He was alive. Bones was alive. They were in the dark of the hospital, not on the incessant white lights of the Enterprise. He managed to convince his hands to grasp at Bones’ sleeve, breathing deep shuddering breaths while he attempted to pull himself together. Bones and Boyce had freed him from his sweaty covers, and now set him back down on the mattress carefully.

“That was a bad one, Leonard. I can fetch a muscle-”

Jim shook his head urgently, desperate for them to pay attention- see him, in the dark room. He wouldn’t take anything- refused to have a single needle jab into him. Thankfully, Leonard’s eyes were stuck on him with an intense focus, and he shook his head in agreement.

“No, he’ll be fine Phil.” Bones sounded a hell of a lot surer than Jim felt, but that was nice. Bones had always had a better understanding of Jim than Jim did. It was why the man was so good at looking after him- why Jim needed him, fundamentally, beyond anything else. “Can you give us a minute?”

Boyce looked reluctant, for once. More often than not, he was mostly compliant with Bones’ instructions. He seemed aware, and quite happy, that Bones had only stepped down as primary Doctor in name, not in practice. Jim knew that too, now, but he still appreciated the gesture that his boyfriend had made. Still, Phil did nod and leave the room- presumably to go tell Pike that Jim had made an utter failure of sleeping the whole night through _again._

“Bad dream?” Bones asked. If Spock were there, he would have raised the most sarcastic eyebrow at the inane question.

“Yeah. I guess seeing Scotty refreshed my memory of a few things.” Jim shrugged. He was annoyed at himself for having a nightmare, even if he should have expected it. Seeing Scotty had been just about as draining as he’d expected it to be, but in a completely different way. His Chief Engineer had gone and apologised - almost fucking cried – for what Jim had done. As if Scotty could have stopped him. It had been… probably one of the worst things he’d experienced since waking. Still, Bones didn’t need to know that. It was between Jim, Scotty, and his therapist. “No biggie.” He chirped.

“Jim, you were screaming.” Bones said, too quietly, taking a seat on the bed beside Jim. “Can’t you tell me what it was?”

“Does it matter? Really, Bones. I have enough nightmare material to take up my every waking moment. I’m lucky I’m not having multiple flashbacks or disassociating or, _god_ , all the crap you were looking out for! You know as well as I do that I’m not going to finish processing this until I see everyone and go to the damn enterprise. Which actually means I need to get strong enough to stand up for more than an hour! So, instead of focusing on one stupid nightmare, can we be a little more practical now?!”

There was silence for a moment, besides Jim’s harsh breathing. Bones stared at him, as if seeing him in a new light.

“Yeah.” Bones said, chewing on his lip anxiously. “Okay. We’ll do all of that. A month’s time, we’ll go to the Enterprise.”

“Oh.” Jim’s anger dissipated rapidly. “A month? That’s soon – no, that’s fine. I’ll be ready.” He cringed inwardly. Bones wouldn’t let him forget this. One way or another, he was going to the Enterprise. If that wasn’t enough to give him more nightmares, he wasn’t sure what was. “Stay with me, tonight? I’ll sleep, I’m sure of it.”

“Fine.” Leonard shuffled back to the pillows, and then opened his arms to Jim. He curled up against his boyfriend’s chest, his fingers curling into the fabric of his tee. “Nearly five months, Jimmy. Four, by the time we see the ship. Times’ running out.”

“Thanks, Bones. Can always count on you to cheer me up.” Jim sighed heavily, breathing in the clean scent of his boyfriend. “Still expect you to take me out today, by the way.”

“Yeah? Well, I expect you to sleep another hour at least before I even consider it.” Bones replied, stroking his fingers through Jim’s hair. And right there, with hands in his hair and his ear pressed against Bones’ heartbeat, Jim thought there was no safer place to be. “Hey, Jim?” His boyfriend murmured suddenly, sounding almost cautious, even in the dark.

“Yeah, Bones?”

“I’ve been thinking I might get a transfer out of medical.” Leonard confessed quietly, and Jim’s quieting mind was suddenly reeling again with the possibilities the statement gave itself to. He must have tensed physically against Leonard, because suddenly Leonard’s grip tightened slightly. “Pike’s spoken to me a bit about a class at the Academy on practical applications of medicine on away missions- and when Spock gets back, we’re going to do some research together. It’d take me away from the hospital more, but I figured you’re stronger now, and I’ll still visit you every night-”

“No- Bones, I love it! I think it’s a great idea.” Jim lifted his head up for a moment, twisting awkwardly to meet Bones’ gaze. In fact, he couldn’t be more supportive of Bones’ idea if he tried. His boyfriend looked better, these days. More rested, less terrified. But he still deserved to get away from Jim- find _himself_ again. Jim understood, he really did. He’d been through the same sort of thing so many times- never more so than after Tarsus. Protecting those children had taken over his entire personality, and becoming Jim Kirk again had been a hellish ordeal. It had taken him all the way to meeting Pike and Bones before he managed it. “I spend most of my time in PT or doing reports now, anyway. You don’t have to put your life on hold for me anymore.”

“Dammit Jim, don’t be thick. My life hasn’t been on hold. I’ve just been investing in my future. Our future.”

“Yeah?” Jim twisted his head back round, laying his ear flat against Bones’ chest once more. “Where do you see us, Bones? Here, teaching at the academy? Or on the Enterprise?”

“I’ll answer that, Jimmy, when you’ve already decided for yourself.” Bones said firmly, his fingers resuming their carding through Jim’s hair. It seemed to signal the end of their conversation, and Jim allowed his eyes to flicker closed again. Bones knew what he was doing. Bones would get them through all of this.


	11. Chapter 11

Another week had flown by, this time more quickly than Leonard had experienced in a while. Time in a hospital never seemed to function like it was supposed to. Hours didn’t really matter- especially not when sleep was so disturbed, and Jim was still napping in the afternoon. Out of the hospital though, time was far more structured and because of that seemed to disappear instantly. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked teaching in a classroom; he didn’t have the patience or the reserves to deal with so many people for so long at a time. He had enjoyed recounting some tales from their trips out on the enterprise thus far, though, and he’d been horrified to discover he looked back on some of them with fondness. Most of them, actually. Khan… he really had been an anomaly. His stories of incidents and emergency on-site medicine brought back memories of post-mission gatherings in the mess- seeing Jim swagger out of his med-bay as if he’d never been hurt at all, all flashy smiles and preposterous winks. The good times, Leonard figured.

And maybe, just a reluctant maybe, Spock and Nyota had been right. He did feel better for getting away from the hospital. He doubt it’d last long – if Jim _did_ decide to stay, he’d return back to Starfleet Medical sooner rather than later – but it made a nice change, and he had plenty of time every day to work through his reports and research, and then go to visit Jim. And hell, he was sleeping through the night like he hadn’t in months. Teenagers were exhausting, and he suddenly remembered how agonising it had been to attend the Academy himself. How Jim had been about the best thing to come home to of an evening, all bright eyed and full of cocky bravado.

It was almost like life was mocking him when he entered Jim’s suite at the end of the day to another teenager. Chekov sat at the end of Jim’s bed, cross-legged and speaking so rapidly, his words seemed to merge together. Nyota was there too, sat by the window and head buried in one of Jim’s old paperbacks. They both looked up sharply when the door closed behind Leonard, Chekov falling silent for just a moment before his mouth split into a wide grin.

“Hello Doctor! I was just telling the Keptin about-”

“Everything on earth.” Nyota finished, teasing their younger friend and laughing, delightfully, when Chekov sent her an innocent, affronted look. “Hello Leonard, how was work?”

“Good.” Leonard replied, moving over to Jim’s bed and pressing a hand against his boyfriend’s head. Jim looked a little tired, but otherwise he was quite healthy – if his readings and temperature were anything to go by. It wasn’t yet seven in the evening, but he looked as if he could go straight to sleep if given the opportunity. He leant into Leonard’s touch slightly, a silent request for Leonard to run his fingers through his hair or swoop down and kiss him. This time, he denied his boyfriend, and just took his hand instead. Jim shot him a look almost identical to Chekov’s; petulant and adorable. Damn kids.

“The Sulu’s came this morning.” Nyota offered softly- and that explained Jim’s tiredness. Demora was, in Leonard’s experience with the kid, either an absolute sweetheart or the most hyperactive child in existence. Placid and cuddly, or wild and loud. No different from any other kid, really, and yet a lot for a recently deceased man.

“I napped at lunch.” Jim said, making an effort to squeeze his hand.

Leonard laughed, pressing a kiss to Jim’s cheek. “I’m glad, darlin’. You need anything? Pain killers?”

It wasn’t funny, not remotely, but Leonard almost wanted to laugh when he heard Chekov gasp in a breath of horror behind them. It was reality, at least for the time being- especially when he’d spent the morning being a climbing frame for a little kid.  Of course, Jim had been refusing pain relief since much earlier than he should have been, but then the kid had a pain threshold beyond belief.

“I am sorry, Keptin, I would not have been so talkative if I had realised you were in pain.” Chekov apologised instantly, and then the urge to laugh dissipated instantly.

It was their own fault, really. They’d kept everyone away for so long, that the others now had no real perception of just how far Jim had come. He could walk out of hospital tomorrow, if he demanded to, and they wouldn’t really have much argument to keep him in. Surprisingly, though, Jim had been unfathomably patient. Aside from their little trips out into the city, he hadn’t once asked when he could leave the hospital permanently, and that was unheard of for Jim. Leonard liked to think Jim just trusted him and Boyce to do what was best for him – because the alternative was that Jim was now scared to leave the hospital, too used to its safety and routine. Leonard didn’t think that was a valid theory, though, because he’d been more than happy to go out on those short excursions. Hell, Leonard had been the one to hate them – Jim had become something of a minor celebrity, now more so than ever, and going out in public with him was a hellish experience.

“I’m not in pain, Chekov. And trust me, if I wasn’t interested I’d have fallen asleep. Don’t even think about feeling guilty. C’mon, tell me more about this transporter upgrade while Leonard makes us some drinks- and then we’ll order take out.” Jim was a natural leader, Leonard knew. But he was more than that, especially to Chekov. Chekov, who looked up to his superiors like they were his ultimate role models. The kid nodded, almost enthusiastically, settling more comfortably on the bed.

“I’ll help, Len.” Nyota said, dropping her book down on the table and stretching, approaching Leonard to encourage him to actually leave before Chekov started talking. He didn’t need telling twice and turned on his heel, Jim’s hand slipping from his as he moved away.

The door closed behind them, and instantly Nyota let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank heavens you turned up. I was beginning to think in Russian after spending so long with Chekov.”

“Right.” Leonard agreed, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to happen to people. They set off down the corridor to find a replicator in the kitchenette. “How’s Jim been?” He didn’t need full time supervision, not by a long shot, especially not with Boyce or M’Benga right down the corridor keeping an eye on his vitals, and a dozen other specialists in and out to see him. Yet, Leonard was almost stupidly glad that Nyota had reorganised her schedule to spend some time with Jim. Jim needed it, and if it meant he was finally starting to see other crew members… it was really just the final step of his recovery.

“Not bad. I think he’s just worn out, and I’m not surprised after Demora. She kept asking him to pick her up, and he ignored Ben and Hikaru when they said he didn’t have to. Just kept going.” Leonard could imagine Ben and Hikaru attempting to reason with their child, assuring Jim he needn’t strain himself for her behalf. More vividly, he could imagine Jim disregarding all common sense and playing with the little girl as if he was in top health. “ You should have seen his face when she giggled.”

His other mindless daydreams were replaced instantly, as Leonard was struck with an image of Jim with another kid. Unknown, and yet familiar- blonde mops of hair and bright eyes. Jim liked babies, he’d always known that and god, he liked the idea of seeing Jim with them. If they stayed- if they stayed on earth and Jim got to assigned to Headquarters, they could get a house and a dog and, maybe, one day, have children. They were young still, even Leonard, and the idea was dreamlike but completely rash and-

“Stop looking so panicked, Leonard. Jim told Ben he had enough trouble sleeping through the night as it was, he didn’t need a baby to keep him up all hours too.”

“Oh. Well, good.” Leonard scratched his temple absently. “Not that I was panicked. We’ll be great parents, one day.”

“I know.” Nyota grinned at him and swept into the kitchenette, leaving Leonard to follow in something of a daze. “How’s the Academy, then? I’m glad you decided on a change of scenery.”

“Is that your charming way of asking if you were right?” Leonard asked, attempting to glare at his friend. It was strange to think how few years they’d known each other, really, and yet how much like a sister she felt. Back in first year, she’d though he was an absolute idiot for hanging out with Jim. As if he’d ever had a choice once that idiot man had attached himself to Leonard. He’d managed to convince her he was moderately more sane than she gave him credit for, eventually.

“I’m glad you think I’m charming, Leonard, but yes- actually.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, punching in the code for coffee into the replica. Leonard seriously debated whether it was a good idea to give Chekov caffeine, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the kids father, dammit, and he was no longer responsible for his health. Not off the Enterprise. “Well?”

“Well, yes. You were right. It isn’t going to be a long term thing, but still. It’s been a good experience. Hell, believe it or not it’s made me miss the Enterprise.”

“Well, it won’t be long now. When will Jim see it for the first time?”

Leonard shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know if Nyota knew they hadn’t yet agreed to go back, and he didn’t particularly want to lie to her. They _would_ see the Enterprise for the first time since Jim’s death, but it wasn’t necessarily going to be the first of many times. In fact, Jim might decide there and then he never wanted to see it again, and none of them would be able to argue.

“We’re going for a visit in a fortnight.” He took the cups Nyota handed to him, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve been thinking about something though, and I thought you might be able to help me with it. If you think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. See, Jim doesn’t really need to be in hospital anymore. I think that time has come and gone, and we were all too busy pushing him harder and further that we didn’t notice. Seeing the Enterprise is going to be a lot for Jim, so I don’t know if the timing is right, but I’ve been thinking about it anyway. Breaking him out of here.”

“Leonard, I have a perfect idea.” Nyota smiled at him, so confident in her reaction that Leonard couldn’t possibly feel anything but pure, childish enthusiasm at what she might have in mind.

 

 

 

Jim woke instantly, dragging his head up from Leonard’s shoulder and gasping in a breath before he took in the room around him. There had been no nightmare or cruel memories to tug him from sleep, just a swift knock on the door. Spock and Chris entered, Spock’s ears going a shade greener at the sight of them curled up together on Jim’s hospital bed.

“Who’s’it?” Bones murmured, half-asleep still as he tried to drag Jim back onto the pillows and- god – any other morning Jim would have adored that and given into his advances almost instantly. Who was he kidding, he’d even give in there and then, regardless of Spock and Pike’s presence. But he knew Leonard, and he was certain his boyfriend wouldn’t feel like cuddling in front of their First Officer and Commanding Officer.

“We’ve been walked in on again.” Jim replied deftly, sitting upright and wiping sleep from his eyes. Fucking hell, he didn’t know what time it was but Spock and Pike were both dressed in full uniform, and neither of them looked anywhere close to as bad as Jim felt. It was completely unfair, and they were still just staring at the bed- Spock painfully awkward and Pike, disapproving.

“Yeah, well I’m just grateful your hands aren’t down his pants this time, Son.”

Jim saw the exact moment Leonard realised it was Pike who had spoken, and it took all he had not to burst out laughing. His boyfriend’s eyes snapped open, and he pushed himself up, checking not too subtly to see if he was dressed or not. He was, of course, because as much as Jim protested - his boyfriend refused to take anything further in a hospital bed- and Jim had tried a great many times over the years.

“Jesus Christ! Chris! What time is it?”

“Nearly nine, so rise and shine Doctor McCoy.” Pike said briskly, and that had to be the latest Jim had slept since he’d first woken up. “We’re here on business.”

“Aw, and here I was thinking about pleasure.” Jim teased, rather enjoying the look of disgust on Leonard’s face as his boyfriend staggered off the bed, straightening out his clothes. The warmth of their bodies pressed together was absent instantly, much to Jim’s dismay. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep- let alone Leonard getting into bed with him. His natural instinct was to think he’d had a nightmare at some point, but he couldn’t remember it. He liked that, in any case.

“Think again, Son.” Pike said firmly, and Jim snorted at the look of horror in Spock’s eyes. He had the feeling he’d just undone a whole vacation’s worth of Vulcan meditation, and he wasn’t even that sorry about it.

“Well, what’s so important you had to interrupt my precious, precious sleep?” _With Leonard,_ he wanted to say, but pressed his lips together instead. When he moved back into their apartment, he’d have all the time in the world to sleep curled up at Leonard’s side.

“Orders are in, Son. Starfleet has seen your reports. They know you’re going to be ready. Conditional on you passing your physical, I’m here to offer you the Enterprise, Captain.”

The world seemed to slow, and suddenly Jim only registered ringing in his ears and a pounding pain in his chest. The world was unfocused and devoid of oxygen, and each gulp of breath was like swallowing shattered glass or ice water, agony and yet entirely inescapable. He was panicking. He recognised that, distantly, as though he was recalling a quote from a book he’d studied years before. It was familiar and seemed to fall into place exactly as it ever had done before, and that was key. That meant he could _stop it._ The morning sunlight flooded his suite, and he focused on that. On Bones’, offering his hand up but not daring to touch without permission. Jim’s own hand scrambled for him, and he was nodding furiously to convince them he was fine. Would be fine.

“How long?” He rasped out, when he convinced himself to look up at anything besides his and Leonard’s entwined hands- his grip so hard he was leaving marks.

“Jim?” Pike asked, moving fractionally closer to Jim’s bed. He hadn’t seen Jim mid-panic in a very long time. Jim tried to think, but he couldn’t even recall it. He’d stayed with the older man one Christmas, at the academy, when Leonard had returned home to Georgia. He’d probably panicked a lot then, but the memories were distant and hazy. Chris was very practical in the way he dealt with them- as any Starfleet Captain would be, perhaps. There was no time to panic in high-stakes situations, and that mindset had continued back on earth.

“Till you need an answer, Chris. How long until he needs to decide?” Bones asked for him, handing him his water from the bedside table. Jim took it, forcing himself to take at least a few cool sips. He’d just woken, and yet he felt completely exhausted again.

“James Tiberius Kirk, you listen to me.” Chris said firmly. “You can keep them waiting until the rechristening if you want to. You don’t know how much you’re worth to them, Son. Let alone the rest of us. You take as much time as you need.”

Somehow, the information didn’t actually make him feel much better. He nodded his understanding anyway, and the others seemed appeased. Maybe not Leonard- Bones knew him too well to recognise when he was still anxious; when he was just on the verge of something terrible. But Leonard was kind, and he said nothing, just stayed close and rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of Jim’s hand.

He wanted so desperately to sit in that Captain’s chair again. To do what he was good at, not cower behind a desk and dish out orders to people without any concern for the individual life he was using as a chess piece. But every so often, the reality returned to him. Commanding the Enterprise wasn’t a game; not a perfect life. It was sitting behind that glass, alone, and terrified. It was his body, turning up lifeless in Leonard’s medbay. It was Bones, lying beside him every night and holding him just a fraction too closely to be comfortable. However thrilling the ship was, the stars, the new planets and lifeforms… well, he’d never willingly return to Tarsus IV – what made the Enterprise any different?

Only, he _was_ going to the Enterprise. If only for a visit, but he’d have to see her. He had no choice but to walk her corridors and return to Engineering. _Maybe_ everything would change when he saw that shiny new bridge. Maybe he’d become so blinded by the opportunity, like he had been right at the start, that he’d forget how scared he was. Hell, maybe Leonard would miraculously declare he loved the new medbay and he couldn’t _wait_ to get back out in the stars. That would help make up his mind more than anything else.

“If you are well enough, Captain, we thought you might accompany us on a visit to the Academy today? Lieutenant Uhura is delivering a lecture on the preservation of language and culture, in the wake of catastrophic incidents such as the destruction of Vulcan.” Spock said, and Jim understood. It was something akin to pride in their communications officer. Spock had actually said ‘let’s all go and cheer Nyota on’, in his own way.

“Yeah, actually. That sounds great.” He rubbed at the headache threatening behind his eyes. He was exhausted, and he had that weird pit of a feeling in his stomach he tended to get after a breakdown. It was hollow and painful, both at the same time. He could disregard that for Nyota, though, who’d been nothing but a force of positivity since she’d started visiting him regularly. “When do you need me?”

“I’ll fetch you myself at lunchtime. Give you some time to make yourself a bit more presentable.”

Jim looked down at his rumpled pyjamas, imagined his messy hair that would- no doubt- be blamed on Bones, and frankly he needed to shower too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, anyway, grinning arrogantly. “I’m stunning, Chris.”

“You’re definitely something, Son. Now look after yourself.” He reached in, ruffled Jim’s hair, and _Jesus_ it shouldn’t have helped ease the hollowness in his chest. It was ridiculous that one tiny motion, one brief touch, could make him feel like less of a failure. Like Pike was proud of him.

“I’ll be back later. And for the love of god, don’t let me catch the two of you again.” He added, already walking away with Spock close at his heel. Jim burst out laughing, collapsing back against his pillows as Leonard groaned loudly.

“Keep laughing, Jimmy,” Bones said wickedly, when they were alone again, “And you’ll be waiting a lot longer than moving back home to get any.”

“Empty threat, babe.” Jim replied, pushing down one side of his pyjama pants seductively, to reveal his hip bone; his stomach muscles, finally resembling something he wasn’t ashamed to be seen with. He looked less like the starving kid he’d been on Tarsus, and more like the man Leonard had signed up for. “You won’t be able to resist me.”

“I have been so far, haven’t I?” Bones grumbled, stalking off into the bathroom. The comment was completely natural, seamless in his response, and yet it hit Jim like a dropping weight. For the first time since he’d started PT – since Leonard had _kissed_ him, but refused anything further – Jim wondered if Bones had refused intimacy in hospital purely for Jim’s sake. For his health, and not because he didn’t find Jim attractive anymore. The realisation was a revelation, and it took the breath from his lungs.

“Hey, Bones?”

Bones appeared around the bathroom door again in an instant. He always did and always would. He was probably concerned that Jim was still anxious, still liable to burst out crying. “Yeah?” He looked at Jim expectantly, waiting for some request or- at least- another ridiculous tease.

“I love you.”

His frown softened in response, and Jim swore he saw some tension physically evaporate from Leonard’s shoulders. He smiled, softly. “I love you too, kid.” He said, like it was their first time again, and Jim was the most precious thing he’d seen in his life. Jim remembered that day so clearly. It was one of the things he thought about when things seemed their most bleak. The way Leonard looked at him when he’d told him, all sex-hair and lazy grin, relaxed in a way his personality didn’t often lend itself to.

“C’mon, you need a shower.” Bones said, then, approaching Jim’s bed and extending a hand to him. Jim, god he knew that look, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

“I knew you couldn’t resist my advances forever.” He laughed, accepting the aid out of bed and wiggling suggestively against his boyfriend.

“I say you need a shower. Now behave, or that’s all you’ll get.” Bones replied, pushing him lightly into the bathroom. Jim didn’t doubt for one second that there was a very good reason that Bones made him walk ahead, and he continued to wiggle his hips to fully exploit that. A bad morning didn’t, after all, necessarily have to turn into a bad day. The day it did, Jim was certain was a day he was completely alone. As long as he had Bones, Pike, Spock, Nyota… there would be good days too.


	12. Chapter 12

“You know, Bones, this isn’t - what I had in mind - when you said you’d take me out again.” There wasn’t an ounce of humour in Jim’s tone, and Leonard could have laughed if he wasn’t so focused. Hell, he’d picked up a few tricks from Spock over the years, he could keep a straight face for a little while longer. Especially when he’d gone through all the trouble of planning this.

“Deal with it, Jim. I never said we’d leave the hospital. I said we’d go out, and that’s what we’re doing.” He replied, steadily, stopping with Jim at the landing while his boyfriend caught his breath. It was a tribute to his hard work over the last few weeks that he had even elected to take the stairs, rather than the lift. Only two flights, and it was still taking a while compared to Leonard’s memories of the Academy- Jim bounding up three steps at a time. But progress, anyway. And Jim would get there, sooner rather than later if his current progress was anything to go by.

Leonard would never be so conceited as to think he had anything to do with it, but his absence from the hospital seemed to have correlated with a step up in Jim’s determination to move back to their apartment. He was so close, and it was almost concerning. Leonard had just gotten used to sleeping in their bed alone- as opposed to crammed into Jim’s hospital bed, or his office floor, or just slumped over in a chair- somewhere he could hear Jim scream. And hell, he never thought he would have ranked sex as a particularly important factor of Jim’s recovery- but a few nights before he’d had his first dream of Jim screaming in a much more pleasurable way since, god, before anything Khan related. He’d woken up practically skipping and immediately told Jim upon his morning visit to the hospital. Jim had laughed so hard he’d turned alarmingly pink, and enticingly pulled up his sheets to reveal one bare leg. He’d meant it self-deprecatingly, Leonard knew, still self-conscious about leg muscles not quite what they once were. But Leonard had seen them much weaker, and god, Jim was _Jim,_ and Leonard generally found him attractive no matter what. Death had put a damper on things for a while, but he wasn’t concerned about their long term prospects.

“Charming. A few strolls around the park, you think I’m appeased.” Jim was so pretty when he was flushed from effort. All pink cheeks and bright eyes. “I _know_ there’s a nice restaurant down the road- Nyota told me that she went with Scotty and it was great. So why in God’s name am I being dragged to the roof of the goddamn hospital?”

“Consider it a compromise, darlin’. You wanted to get out, I wanted to not get gawked at by half of San Francisco.”

“Sure, _compromise_.” Jim said sardonically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Bones, those pictures were cute.”

“They were not!” Leonard replied under his breath. Really, there was nothing worse he could imagine than his face being all over stupid magazines about the famous Captain Kirk. They’d caught every single moment- especially their first trip out. From the moment Jim strode out of the hospital, to a quick kiss in the park, to him stumbling back in leaning too heavily on Leonard; all of it appeared in one article or another. Leonard wasn’t nearly as photogenic as Jim- which was stupidly unfair, because Jim was still gaining muscle and weight.

“Fine. Well, I’ll ask Pike to deal with it.”

“He’s done all he can do Jimmy. I think half the security crew have been stationed around you at one point or another.” Leonard sighed. “He loves you, but he’s not all-mighty.” He dared to glance at Jim as he spoke, his heart swelling at the predictable way Jim’s eyes lit up when Pike was mentioned. Leonard hadn’t understood, at first. He hadn’t appreciated how close the pair were. He’d met Jim, and Jim had been annoying and pesky and _around_ , too much. Leonard hadn’t understood why but, like most people, he’d just assumed Pike showered Jim with misplaced favouritism. It was only when they’d gotten closer that Leonard had really noticed how much Jim looked up to Pike- how Pike favoured Jim only with time and energy, not actual slack. Time and energy was precisely what Jim had needed; young and fragile, hiding behind a wall of arrogance. Jim adored Pike, and vice versa, and it would have been cruel to deny either of them the familial bond they both seemed to need so desperately.

“Yeah I know. You’re the one who brings life, oh merciful God.” Jim said theatrically, as if that decision hadn’t broken both of them. As if him bringing Jim back hadn’t been a hellish ordeal that they’d both do again in a heartbeat. That no longer needed discussing or crying over. Months had passed, and all they had left was the future. That was what made it all worth it.

Leonard paused by the roof door, his grin finally betraying him. “Not just me, Kid.” He reminded his boyfriend softly, and opened the door to his left. Jim shot him something of a suspicious look, before making the effort for the last few steps and heading out onto the roof.

Leonard followed instantly, heart pounding against his ribs as those who had been waiting out on the roof called out ‘surprise’ in a fashion far too well-rehearsed. Jim fell still, shocked, as their friends devolved into laughter and cheers. _Dammit_ , Nyota had done a better job than he ever could have at getting everyone prepared. The hospital roof, vast and otherwise drab, had been decorated into something beautiful. All flowers – none that Jim was allergic to – and balloons. A white canopy sheltering drinks and snacks, and the entire bridge crew and co, with Pike and Boyce stood right alongside them.

Leonard looked at Jim, and he had been _right,_ those months before when Jim had barely been conscious and when he had been, he’d been miserable _._ It had been a travesty for Jim to be constricted to hospital for so long. The sun made Jim Kirk come to life. The golden rays, the last few hours of daylight left for them, caught in the blonde curls of his hair- and onto the sheen of tears that hadn’t yet fallen, as he took in the sight that had greeted him. Jim was _beautiful,_ and it struck Leonard breathless. Then, Jim smiled, and the tension in Leonard’s chest drained out. He trusted that smile. It was wide and shocked, but unfathomably _Jim_. There was no other way to describe it.

There was almost no space between them, but Leonard closed it anyway, winding their fingers together. He leant in a little, uncertain if he could even produce breath from his lungs to speak. He managed it somehow, slightly breathless and completely content.

“Happy last night in hospital, Jim.”

Jim turned to him, absolute astonishment cloaking his features as he turned his gaze slowly to Leonard. “You’re kidding?”

“Would I?”

Jim’s fingers tightened around his, and it was hard to remember there was ever a time he couldn’t squeeze back. When life and energy hadn’t flowed through this great man, feeding back into Leonard and sustaining him beyond all else.

“Holy shit.” Jim said, softly. “I-” He paused and turned back to the crew, their friends, and Leonard could almost see him coming to a decision about the Enterprise. The ways his gaze lingered on Spock and Nyota, then Pike, definitive and accepting. “Thank you, everyone. I can’t- Just, thank you.” His hand squeezed Leonard’s again, and it sent electricity down his veins.

“You saved all our lives, Captain.” Nyota said, stepping forward from the group. “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek, and then from somewhere behind everyone music started playing. Old classics that the rest of them couldn’t stand, but Jim seemed to adore. It didn’t matter really though, because they were all together again and Jim was grinning and upright and, tomorrow, they’d go home and start to move on from the shit show of the last few months.

 

 

 

It was dark before Jim realised that Bones had disappeared. At some point, their hands had lost contact and Jim had gotten swept up with the few drinks Boyce and Spock allowed him, and the few more that Scotty had managed to sneak him behind the tent. Then he spent hours standing, then mercifully sitting, talking to everyone. He’d had little Demora climbing on his shoulders for half an hour, and though he’d probably ache tomorrow, it was worth it to hear her giggling. Luckily, it was only after Ben and Hikaru had to leave to take Demora home for her bedtime that Scotty and Chekov decided to have a drinking contest. Despite wishing with all his heart to stay and watch – he was betting on Scotty, always - Spock offered to shield his escape.

Outside his suite, Jim watched Leonard through the window in the door for just a moment, intrigued by the peaceful blankness on his features as he folded Jim’s clothes absently, moving them from one heaped pile to a neat stack with almost Spock like precision. He pushed his way into the room lightly, the grin that hadn’t let up all night finally easing lightly and giving his cheeks much needed relief.

“Hey.” The door closed behind him with a soft click, and it was a sound he’d grown stupidly accustomed to over time. He’d hated it, at first, knowing he was trapped in bed. A test subject for some unnatural cure to death. But, with time, he’d lived for the door opening. For visits from his friends- his _family_. Pike and Spock and, fuck, Bones who made his entire life better.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to disappear. Just…” He held up a pyjama top as explanation. “Ya know.”

“Packing _is_ an important process. Generally takes precedent over parties, I’ve found.” Jim teased lightly, and Leonard attempted something akin to a smile- though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What’s up, Bones?”

“Nothing, kid. I’m good. Just… aw hell, I don’t know.” Bones shrugged and sat down on the bed. Jim approached slowly, pushing his legs apart and moving between them. He would never take that for granted again- to stand before Bones and hold him as tightly as physics would allow. He’d spent far too long staring up at his boyfriend from a hospital bed. “I’m proud of you, Jim. I hope I didn’t… I mean, you hadn’t said you were ready to leave but I figured now was as good a time as any-”

“Bones, calm down. It was great. I loved it- and you know I can’t lie to you; if I’d been upset, you would have known about it.” He lifted a hand to Bones’ face, tracing his dark hair line gently. “This was the best surprise of my entire life.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Strong hands found his waist, pulling him in for a tender kiss. “Been thinking a lot about that wall you mentioned.” Bones said quietly, and Jim could barely remember to breathe before he captured his boyfriend’s lips again- far more filthy than Bones had seemed willing to allow himself just a moment before. Jim almost couldn’t blame him considering the increased risk of being walked in on, what with Pike still in the building. And yet, any reservations Bones had seemed to disappear almost instantly in time with Jim’s tongue seeking permission onwards. It was frankly laughable how scared Jim had been, for so long, that Leonard might never want to kiss him again. After all, who’d want to kiss a dead man?

But dead, Jim was not. He was alive and kicking, and he had years with Bones yet. He pulled away when breathing became a necessity, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Bones’ neck. Bones was far more attractive than he ever gave himself credit for. Jim teased, called him _old man_ and claimed to be both young and dazzlingly hot one, but the truth was far from it. Jim was still attempting to get his weight up, and his hair was still sort of flat and dull. Leonard, though, was the height of fitness. All perfect hair and intense eyes and stupidly strong arms, wrapped around Jim like he was precious goods. Jim could feel their heartbeats flush against each other.

“You can ask me, you know. You don’t have to wait.” He said, quietly, when he’d become slightly less breathless.

“Didn’t realise it needed asking.” Leonard replied, letting out a short huff of a laugh. “We’re going back, aren’t we? _Ad astra._ ” It was hard to determine the emotion behind his tone. Jim wasn’t sure if it was resignation or agreement. Negative or positive. Christ, they’d _both_ been spending too much time with Spock.

“I thought for a while, I wouldn’t want to. This was a lot, for both of us, and it isn’t even over yet.” Jim said, after a moment. “But there’s more I want to do, and seeing everyone together today… I still want to be part of that. It reminded me more of why I ended up in that chamber in the first place, and not how hard it was to deal with the consequences.” That was the whole point, wasn’t it. It had to be. It was why his father had given his life. Why Spock had beamed down to a dying Vulcan and elected to remain in the heart of a volcano. Sacrifice, for the greater good. It wasn’t clean or pretty, and Jim could debate with himself for days about whether it was ‘worth it’ or not. But he knew, despite everything, he’d do it again tomorrow if he had to. That simple fact had no right to influence the way he wanted to live the rest of his life.

“I’ve wanted to be a Captain since the day I met Pike and Starfleet needs every man it can get right now.” Leonard’s expression was still too guarded, too artificially neutral. “That being said, I won’t drag you somewhere you don’t want to be. You’re doing good work here, Bones. Your research, the academy. I just mean – we’ve survived my physical _death,_ haven’t we? We could… I dunno, make it work long distance.”

Bones’ hands reached up to his own, tugging them away from his head and entwining them together in his lap. “Everything I’m doing here… it’ll still be here when we get back.” He said confidently, and each word was like a rock shifting at the start of a landslide. The relief was all consuming, and Jim squeezed Leonard’s hands tightly to demonstrate the understanding his mouth wouldn’t comply with. “Besides, you think I’m gonna trust some other CMO with all my hard work?”

“Who said anything about being my CMO?” Jim managed to grind out, teasing. “I might just marry you. Keep you on board for the bigger Quarters.”

“You’d have to say yes.” Bones said, quietly. It wasn’t so much a quip as Jim had expected; Leonard’s eyes were still intense, still focused, still completely serious.

“You’d have to ask me.” Jim replied, seamlessly, not missing a beat.

Leonard’s legs tightened around him fractionally, pulling him in closer. “I’ll bear that in mind, Captain Kirk.” Jim almost forgot how to breathe- both somehow disappointed that Bones hadn’t asked immediately, and completely relieved. If Bones had been seriously thinking about it or not, before Jim’s well-timed joke, he didn’t know – but he didn’t want a rush job. “Dammit, I bet they all think we’re having sex right now, don’t they?”

The tension drained instantly and Jim laughed at the desperate look on Bones’ face, stepping out of his reach and winking ludicrously. “So many walls to utilise, babe.” He teased, his heart pounding at the reluctant grin that graced his boyfriend’s features. “I’m kidding. I’m sure they don’t think that. It’s only been half an hour, and it’s _me.”_

“Of course, oh mighty god of sex.” Leonard jumped off the bed, glancing down at the half completed piles of clothing. “We can finish that later. C’mon, darlin’, we’ve got a party to get back to.”

 

 

 

 E p i l o g u e

Jim was fuelled by starlight, and thrived in the sun. Blonde waves of hair that hadn’t changed at all since Leonard had first laid eyes on him seemed infused with threads of gold, when the light caught him. Leonard was transfixed by the sight, dry-mouthed and breathless that one man- one idiot of a man- had captured his heart and refused to let go ever since. He tried to remember the start, before he’d known all of Jim’s baggage, when Jim had just been another fresh face. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and so sparse in Leonard’s memories of the man that he struggled to reconcile them with the long-lasting relationship they had now.

Jim didn’t often get nervous. It wasn’t really in his personality. Anxious, sometimes, but generally he seemed to get through life with the belief that everything would work out in the end. Maybe it was only natural considering the utter hells he’d survived thus far, that the smaller things didn’t seem worth the energy. He _had_ been nervous for the results of some of his bigger exams at the Academy. He’d been nervous after Nero, waiting for Pike to get out of an operation. He’d been nervous on his first visit back to the Enterprise, to see progress on the Ship. He was nervous now, as he waited to find out his fate for space travel.

“Jim you’ve done these physicals a thousand times before. How do _you_ think it went?” Leonard asked, not particularly caring who was watching as he combed his fingers through Jim’s hair. It looked too silky not to touch, and it soothed Jim a little- which was excuse enough to touch his damn boyfriend. Jim tilted his head towards him, following the motion of Leonard’s fingers regardless of the others in their apartment. They’d gathered there to await the news from Command- Jim had bravely endured a new Doctor- unbiased and tough, and worse considering his distrust of medical professionals in general. The Admiralty were meeting now to discuss the results - a meeting that Pike had been banned from due to his close relationship with the subject. Leonard thought it was good, in a way, because it meant Chris was right there, sat opposite Jim, reassuring him. Right where he needed to be.

“I don’t know.” Jim replied petulantly. “Worse than any other physical I’ve ever had- oh, except that pre-flight simulation one in second year when I had the flu.”

“- And didn’t tell me.”

“Babe, you were busy with your own stuff.” Jim replied seamlessly, appeasing him by taking his free hand and holding it tightly. As much as Leonard liked to complain that Jim didn’t care about his health, in actuality there had only ever been a handful of times that Jim had kept something to himself. Otherwise, he’d always wound up on Leonard’s doorstep, and Leonard had always welcomed him in. Nothing had changed, really, despite the years. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. Anyway- Spock said if I fail, he’ll take command until I do and then step down for me. Right, Spock?”

Across the room, Spock and Nyota looked up from their game of chess- both seemingly untroubled by their tense gathering as they awaited Jim’s results.

“Affirmative, Captain.”

Pike shifted in his seat, and Leonard spotted that familiar pang of guilt on his face. It had been Pike’s duty, far too often, to be the bearer of bad news. Particularly where Jim was concerned. He figured it was only the good news, the love and support Chris provided throughout, that sustained the strength of their relationship.

“It’s a pretty solution, Son, but it still means you’ll be grounded until the Enterprise is close enough to Earth to pick you up. That could be over a year. And Leonard would have to go with it, you know. You wouldn’t convince anyone in their right mind to transfer and downgrade from the CMO of a ship like the Enterprise, to something else.”

“Couldn’t you just arrange a transfer?”

Pike shook his head, and Leonard watched the fear of living god enter Jim. “A transfer at that level would need more than just my small voice. I could convince Archer, maybe, but as good as Leonard is, it’d be a risk.”

“Well, that’s…” Jim turned from Pike to Leonard, bright blue eyes searching Leonard’s desperately, as if Leonard had anything to say to make it better. “We could make it work, couldn’t we?”

“Course we could, Kid, but it’s not gonna happen. You’ll pass.” Somehow, and Leonard had no idea what sort of magic power he’d suddenly adopted in calming down his nervous wreck of a boyfriend, it worked. Jim’s tense shoulders drooped and his hands, wringing and shaking almost imperceptibly, stilled in his lap. Not that he was going to tell Jim until he got his results, but he had absolutely no intention of going back to Space without him, dammit. Especially not with Spock as Captain- the idea was unbearable; the stuff of nightmares. He’s stay planet side for however long it took for Jim to pass his damn physical and then get them back to the Enterprise.

Silence fell in the apartment, aside from the gentle tapping of Spock and Nyota’s game. Chris resumed working on his PADD, leaving Leonard and Jim spectator free as they sat together in the silence, the sun filtering in through the open windows and illuminating Jim’s perfect hair. Leonard’s hand got tired of petting eventually, and he moved it down to take one of Jim’s instead. Outwardly, Jim seemed calmer, but Leonard knew him better than that. Knew how scared he was that he wouldn’t get his ship back – not because of command or death or, hell, out of choice – but because he wasn’t good enough, because he wasn’t strong enough. For the life of him, Leonard didn’t know if Jim was or not. His own uncertainty regarding his Physical spoke volumes. The Jim that Leonard had known for so long had always been certain of his own strength. He’d almost been arrogant about it. Now, he was just nervous.

On the table between them all, Jim’s PADD lay, dark and silent, waiting to receive the message that would decide their future. Jim was staring at it, wide-eyed. He didn’t so much as blink until the screen lit up, and then the tension swept over his every features again, tightening his muscles and sending his fingers tightening around Leonard’s like vines.

“Fuck.” Jim’s free hand lurched forward and then stopped, just shy of the PADD. His hand shook so hard he imagined even Nyota and Spock could see from across the room, where they’d looked up at his exclamation. “Okay.” His fingers danced above the device, as if trying to work up the confidence to go through with it. And then, he withdrew. He looked straight ahead at Pike, and Leonard saw the pride shining in the older man’s eyes. “Chris, please.”

Pike nodded, reached forward and took Jim’s PADD without a word. He scanned the message quickly, really, and yet it felt like an eternity. Jim’s hand was vice like around his own, almost painful if Leonard could feel anything at all beyond his own apprehension. Pike looked up, finally, and Leonard forgot how to breathe.

“Congratulations, Captain Kirk.” The flood of relief was almost dizzying, and beside him, Jim gasped so sharply Leonard almost felt the urge to prepare a hypo. “One month to go, and then you’ve got five long years out in the black.”

Everything was better in a single instant. Leonard’s heart ached in the best possible way, as Jim’s awed smile turned from Pike to him, and they locked eyes for longer than Jim had managed to maintain eye contact all morning. He looked his age, then, and in the best way. Leonard had seen him looking too young, too small, too tangled in bed sheets and whimpering in pain. But now, eyes shining and a grin stretching his pretty pink lips, he looked young; brimming with unlimited potential. Nyota was laughing heartily, hugging Spock, and suddenly Jim was laughing- along with Pike. Spock – _hell_ – Spock was _smiling;_ the sight was somehow completely uncomfortable and ferociously heartening. Distantly, Leonard realised he was laughing too. Laughing, unreservedly. Even when Jim’s hand slackened in his, trying to move to return hugs from Nyota and Chris, Leonard held on tightly, as if scared Jim might just run off to space at that very moment.

“A month?” Jim repeated, mischief sparkling in his bright eyes. Leonard was grateful for every breath he took; he’d let Jim steal the very air from his lungs, if he wanted, if he promised to do so only with kisses. “I could plan a wedding in that time, you know.” He was ridiculous. Insatiable and demanding and completely impatient, and yet Leonard would give him anything he wanted, any time. This – _this_ – was the Jim Kirk who had worked his way into Leonard’s life, and adamantly refused to step back ever since. He was selfish and stubborn and so goddamn brave, and he was _adored._

_I’m more interested in the honeymoon, darlin’,_ he wanted to tease. Wanted to keep laughing and holding Jim, and capture this moment forever. On the edge of greatness, of eternity. Not yet on the Enterprise, not yet back to work and business and danger. Just full of promise and potential, and unadulterated joy because of those facts. Instead, he nodded.

“Do it.” The time for teasing was long over. Leonard refused to go back to space, risk losing Jim again, before he had it in writing that they were together. “Marry me, Kid.” There was no hesitation to his words, despite the man Jim considered a father planting him with a firm look. It was more 'about time' than 'think again, son', anyway. 

It was a privilege to look into Jim Kirk’s eyes. Bright blue, shining and brilliant, and _alive._ Jim looked as happy as he had done the day they finally got their act together and became official. He was the best thing Leonard had done with his life- that day had been incomparably happy -  but marrying him was, without a doubt, going to top everything.

“Really?”

“I love you, Jim.” He replied, shrugging easily. It really was that simple – the easiest thing in his life. He hadn’t dragged Jim back kicking and screaming for nothing, after all.

“Yeah, Bones.” Jim’s grin was all consuming, and not just for Leonard. There, in their apartment, surrounded by the people who loved them most in the world, there was nothing but a happiness so pure that Leonard couldn’t think of a single complaint to even attempt to preserve his brisk reputation. Pike, Spock, Nyota… they were family, and he was unfathomably grateful they were right there with them - as grateful as he’d been that they’d been with them throughout Jim’s recovery. He couldn't have done it without them, and he doubted Jim could have either. They were the reason both of them were there to even have this conversation, and Leonard would never forget it. Even when they got back to the stars, even when he went back to being Doctor McCoy - gruff and firm - he wouldn't be able to forget the months they'd all spent besides Jim's bed, suffering together, and stronger for it now.

“I love you too.” Jim said, and there wasn’t a truth in all the universe that Leonard trusted in more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome, or suggestions for things you'd like to see. I also wanted to say a massive thank you for all your lovely comments!


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